Every Breath You Take
by JokerzCard
Summary: The brothers follow a baffling trail of mangled bodies that lead them to believe something supernatural is shrinking women for kicks. The case is a dead-end- until the latest victim escapes right into their hands. Literally. (A size!fic)
1. Chapter 1

Whoever said women were needy had never met Claire Streigal's ex-boyfriends. While she wasn't bad-looking by any stretch of the imagination, it seemed she was doomed to attract the most dependent, clingy men ever to walk the face of the earth. The frustration built and built, to the point where she was ready to give online dating a go. As expected, most who approached her were lonely guys brimming with pent-up sexual frustration.

But then _he_ messaged her. Henry Abels. He was handsome, well-adjusted, and had a respectable job at a small local travel agency. Not exactly the man of her dreams, but close enough that Claire agreed to meet in-person at a bar of his choosing.

So there she was, sitting at the bar, sipping her martini and peering around hopefully. Claire tucked a strand of honey-colored hair back into place and glanced down at her outfit. She was nervous, though she tried to look otherwise. She had purchased a bottle of pepper spray on the slight chance that this mystery man turned out to be a serial rapist.

The young woman flinched when someone touched her arm.

"Oh, it's you!" Claire smiled and blushed faintly at the blonde man standing behind her. It was like he appeared out of nowhere.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."

He smoothly slid into the seat next to her.

"No... I definitely think you could work a couple more drinks into me." She said coyly. Claire traced the rim of her glass and cocked her head to the side, lighthearted playfulness with a teaspoon of allure. "...if you're paying."

He smiled.

* * *

Just barely holding back a moan, Dean let his elbows thump onto the wooden table top and buried his head in his hands. The bottle of beer next to his elbow wobbled, dangerously rolling on its rounded bottom. The hunter's hand shot out and grabbed it without looking up.

Condensation rolled down his hand as he just held it; for some reason even its existence in his grip was calming him down. Kind of. It'd take more than a single beer to make him forget that this was the ELEVENTH bar that he had just sat in during the last five days. The ELEVENTH! The first three or four had been fun. Sit in a bar for a few hours, look at the girls, chat a few of them up, have a couple of beers, hijack the jukebox...But by the fifth, he had run out of quarters, and had finally given in on how much he drank- 'cause he'd had enough of Sammy lecturing him on not drinking so much at every bar, and how he needed to keep his eyes on the DUDES instead of the girls.

"Whatever. Jerkface is just harping on me cause he can't hold his liquor. You'd think his friggin gigantor body would be good-" Dean's muttering was cut off when a chill went down his spine.

Body tensing, he looked around while barely moving his head from where it was still planted in his hand. It was like his hunter-spidey sense was tingling somewhere in his brain. Now he just had to find out why. Dean's green eyes traveled over the corners of the bar, looking past the pool players in front of him, glancing over the bartenders and their station in the center of the room.. ignoring all the couples he had stared at earlier, and tried to find whatever was new that gave him the heebee-jeebees.

Finally, Dean noticed a blond guy that was making his way to a booth on the other side of the room. He looked like a straight-forward kind of dweeb. Average looking, though probably would've done well enough with most of the women in the bar. But there was something about him... He didn't have some kind of aura of doom around him. It was just in the way that his eyes shifted around; every now and then, they'd slide around the room as he walked... Almost like how a predator would walk through a place; easy and not worried, as though looking for a meal.

Dean sat up straight and took a drink from his beer, trying to look inconspicuous as he watched the man reach the bar, greeting a girl and leading her to a corner booth to sit down. The blond hunter had already taken note of the girl when he had walked in. She had come in a few steps ahead of him, and he had hoped that he might be able to take a minute before he left to try and get her number.

_Great...One of the times I get interested enough to go after a chick that looks like she has a brain and looks, she has a date with...Whatever the hell that guy is,_ Dean snorted to himself and waved a waitress over. The guy was probably just a creep and she looked like she could handle herself. And right now, he and Sammy were working a job that was going no where. He'd never say it to Sam, considering he'd get a "told you so" look, but it wasn't the time or the place to mess around with a girl. He wasn't desperate enough to use a civilian as bait or get her scent crossed with his when he was on a monster hunt.

After a quick chat and a big smile at the waitress, he left his table knowing that it and another beer would be there when he came back from making a call to his brother. He walked to the back of the bar, naturally walking calmly and confidently to the hall that led to the bathrooms and pay phones, his eyes scanning the room as he walked. Dean passed the girl and the blond creep, and he tugged at the collar on his coat, pulling it up to hide his face some while he got another look at the blond man.

_So what are you...Man, monster, demon, or witch? 'Cause I'd like to figure out if there's actually some bastard out there shrinking women for kicks and giggles._

Dean passed them by, unaware that Henry Abels had seen him out of the side of his vision. Abels' light eyebrows furrowed. Something had been familiar about that human._ Heh...Human. I haven't really been one of those for about a hundred years now._ Abels let the thought go when he realized that his lovely date had stopped talking.

"Hmm? Oh, so sorry Claire. I thought I recognized someone." He refocused his undivided attention on her, running her last words through once more. "Err...Yes! Abels is scandinavian. Side note about that, I'm just glad my parents named me Henry and didn't think it'd be a good idea to name me Abel Abels. My family on both sides is from that region. But... I don't really have much family these days."

She nodded, tilting back the last of her drink.

"How about you?" He went on, almost an undertone of impatience. "Oh...Done with your martini? Did you want another drink?" He smiled, knowing that it looked genuinely friendly, interested, and even a bit nervous. Inside though...he was waiting. And loving it.

"I'll take the Sunrise Alamo this time around." She pointed out a colorful, fruity drink to the waitress who dropped by. "I try not to get wasted on first dates." She folded up the menu again and straightened her skirt, flashing a smile to the man sitting across her.

"That sounds pretty lonesome. Though, I guess I'm not one to talk. My mom moved back to Arkansas when Dad died, and my sister is still in school." She shrugged and stubbornly kept her lips upturned in a smile. "I'm a big girl, I get by just fine on my own."

He looked back at her, those piercing blue eyes like soul-readers. "At the risk of sounding too forward... You're a remarkable woman, Claire." A slow blush rose to her cheeks, saying nothing. He lowered his gaze to the tabletop and chuckled. "I'm going to be honest, I was worried about snagging someone really clingy. I need someone who can really stand her own, doesn't give into everything so easily." He smiled sheepishly. Claire's jaw dropped.

"I know!" She said. "I just need someone who understands I require a little space now and again."

"Exactly!" He agreed. His enthusiasm was only tainted when he glanced over his shoulder for the briefest of moments.

"Are you meeting someone else here?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. She tried to see who he was eyeing.

"Not at all. Ah, here we go.." He announced the arrival of the waitress with the drinks. The beverage was picture perfect- and tasted delightful. Claire soon forgot his odd behavior and got lost in conversation.

Time flew by as they talked about everything and nothing. It was so easy to talk to him; like she was hanging out with an old friend she hadn't seen in years, and they were merely catching up.

A small cramp throbbed in her stomach. It started small, so she ignored it and tried to endure. But it was getting bad. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out. She felt like she might throw up. How embarrassing would that be? And she really liked this guy!

"Could you excuse me? I need to use the ladies' room." Claire's voice was far from its former peppiness. She realized she had interrupted his story, but at the moment it didn't seem important.

"Are you alright?" He stood up along with her.

"Yeah no, I'm fine. Really. Just need a minute to freshen up." She smiled tightly and strode away before he could try to be chivalrous and take her arm or anything else that would embarrass her.

The woman's restroom was kinda grungy as far as bar bathrooms went. Water flooded the counters between the sinks and one of the stall doors was hanging off its hinges. The young woman stumbled to the sink and gripped the counter edge, allowing herself at last a moan of pain. Was it something she ate? She'd never had food poisoning before. Maybe this is what it felt like.

She lifted her head. The girl staring back at her was pale and her eyes were slightly bloodshot. _How could he even act like he's so into me? I look awful!_

Another wave of dizzying pain shot through her. Claire gasped involuntarily and gripped the sink with white knuckles._ As much as I hate to admit it... There's no way I can make it longer tonight._

She fixed her hair best she could and steeled herself with what to give as an excuse. She opened the door to leave, and nearly ran into her date on the other side.

"Oh! You startled me. Sorry." What was he doing over here? Kinda freaky..."I'm sorry, I'm feeling off all of a sudden. I need to go but-"

"No. You don't." he repied gravely.

Claire went to scream when he clapped a hand over her mouth.

Abels pulled Claire tight against his front and held her there in an iron strong grip. Taking a step back, he put them both into a dark corner at the end of the hall where no one would see them past the rows of pay phones. And this wouldn't take long enough for him to really worry about it either.

The girl struggled against him, throwing elbows and stomping on his feet; she was probably doing anything she could to break the hold he had on her. He looked down at Claire and raised his eyebrows in amusement at her useless struggling. The man looked more like a shark with his feverish cold eyes, and a wide, thin lipped grin.

He bent his neck to whisper into her ear, "It's really just a useless struggle at this point Claire. Youre just tiring yourself out now. I bet you werent feeling very good before, right? And now..." he chuckled softly, "well you're hardly even putting up a fight now. Feel a bit...Different?"

His chuckle turned into a snicker. He bent his knees and slid his back down the wall almost a foot. His young date was barely moving now, but she could still make a loud enough fuss if he let her get away. And what a fuss she would make now when people saw that she was almost half the height she had walked in at.

"You know...I did a little digging into you. Took some means that you would call unusual, but I found out about a particular ancestor of yours. Seems that some greatgreat-whatever came home from World War One with a half human, and half something else bride. It probably never made a difference to them, but... It just means that poor...little you... This spell isn't going to wear off on its own. Not at all. All the boringly average humans were luckier than you. I think this is a good thing for us."

Abels paused and looked down. "And like I said before..."

_Spell?! Oh my gosh, I went on a date with some delusional Wiccan Satan-worshipper! Screw you, E-harmony. _Somehow, Claire managed to find it in her to blame the dating website for her current predicament. She gazed up at the giant before her. His smile was just as handsome, but she now recognized the predatory look in his eyes.

He was now squatting with his back still to the corner. And down between his feet lay an almost unconscious Claire. His smile widened as he looked over her a moment longer, savoring the sight of her struggling to stay awake. His pleasure in the moment swelled as she finally stopping shrinking. Now she was just a tiny miniature of the woman she had been minutes before. Small, controllable, and quite fascinating.

Abels hummed a soft tune to himself and reached into a pocket in the inside of his jacket.

"Well...Like I was saying before little Claire, you really are remarkable. Remarkable enough to get noticed by this old creature, and... I am hoping, remarkable enough that you'll be worth keeping around. I'm thinking of making you a kind of familiar. How does that sound, hmm?" He casually reached down and stroked her, letting his finger trail down from the top of her soft head to just below her rear. The small woman suddenly found enough strength to blearily push away from him and try run away.

"Oh really now? Trying to leave me so soon?" He said it with a cold, hard laugh. His hand reach forward and easily pushed her down to a sitting position. "Please. Claire. One day I think you'll enjoy this as much as I do. And I think I'll like having turned a strong woman into a kind of pet. How about this?" Abels proposed with a relatively goodnatured tone. He looked down at the leather pouch he had pulled out of his jacket and pulled it open. "You can think of this as...you being made just for me. Don't most people dream of that?"

The blond witch reached out and wrapped his fingers around the tiny woman, covering her from head to booted feet.

_He must have roofied me big-time. This is worse than any acid trip I've ever had._

But the hands that trapped her were very real. _But... That's not possible..._

Claire tried to focus on his face. One of them, anyway; she was just about seeing double at this point.

A pleasant chill went through him as he felt her body pressed against the soft flesh of his palm._ This never gets old. I took my soul out of my body for safe keeping and immortality long ago, and most feeling went with it. Most of it's good enough...But for some reason, this always hits just the right spots._

* * *

"C'mon Sam! I know we have to figure this out!" Dean growled into his phone.

Scowling into the dark alley that stretched to either side of him, the blond hunter leaned against the brick wall that was opposite the back exit he had slammed his way through minutes ago. He looked back toward the door, idly looking through the small glass window that let him see back into the bar. "Stop trying to lecture me. You're not the only one who's on his last fuse, okay? I'm sick and tired of casing these bars, hoping that this monster will poke its ugly head out, when we have nothing to go off of! Hell, we barely even agree on what it is! You say a demon, Bobby says a witch, and I just want to shoot something!"

Dean ground his back teeth as he listened to his younger brother take in a deep breath and try to calm himself down. He rolled his eyes with a snort. "Stop breathing all heavy into the phone. You sound like a creeper who's gonna tell me you know what I did last summer," Dean said with a flat tone. "Look...I'm heading back to the room. I need food and to try and actually sleep. I'm thinking you get food, we hit the hay for the night, and then start square one tomorrow. And no buts Sam!" He said quickly to override whatever the other man was going to say. "We're not doing anyone any good. And that's driving me up a friggin' wall. See you back at the room." Dean quickly ended the call and dropped his phone into his pocket.

Walking toward the bar's back entrance, he took a deep breath and rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. All they had was a pattern that made sense, but led them no where. It had already turned into a case where all the evidence they had meant bupkis lead-wise. He sighed and dropped his hands, stuffing them into his jeans pockets. Looking through the window, he glanced around what he could see of the bar. His blond eyebrows scrunched together, quickly noticing that the booth with the pretty dark-blond and her creeper was empty but the drinks were less than half finished.

Titling his head, he tried to peer down the length of the hallway. There was movement in the corner...And his green eyes widened when he realized that it was the blond-creep. A cold chill swept through his body and he threw open the door. The preppy man was squatting in the corner and something was in his hands. Dean's attention went to the man's face as it whipped up in surprise.

"Winchester. I thought I smelled a hunter." Abels said in a soft voice.

"That's me. And I'm hoping you're the bad guy Ive been looking for." Dean drawled, suddenly feeling calm sweep through him. He didn't know where the girl was, but his monster was finally right in front of him. Dean reached for his gun. "Im gonna have to make a note to listen to my spidey sense next time."

Claire stiffened at the new voice. Where had this "Winchester" guy come from? For a moment, she believed she was saved. She got a fleeting glimpse of a worn leather jacket before the drawstring was pulled snugly closed. Only a dot of light left. As the leather pouch encased her in darkness, she remembered she was only a few inches long. No one would see her. Grudgingly, she admitted in the back of her mind that this was a very well-planned crime.

"Next time." The witch agreed.

Accompanying the shifting of fabric and the feeling of altitude rapidly increasing was the sudden sound of something rushing through the air. It slammed audibly into the opposite wall. Judging by the masculine groan that followed, Claire deduced the 'thing' had been the hunter's body.

_How is that possible? This creep barely moved a muscle! He didn't even touch him!_

Her heart leapt to her throat as her captor made to escape. Abels lowered his catch into the pocket of his slacks as he strode towards the employees-only door at the end of the hall. Claire scrabbled at the drawstring, but couldn't budge it more than a couple millimeters. Not enough. Dizzy with panic and shock, she could barely see straight. She threw herself at the sides, searching for some type of escape.

The pouch tilted. It wobbled again when he took another step. She must be at the edge of the pocket! She rocked herself again towards the teetering precipice of free-fall. _This could be my only chance!_ For a split second, she felt her stomach knot up at the height. The fall would surely kill her. _There's a chance it'll be a quick death... And that's better than living out my life as some perverted pet for this maniac._

With one final lurch, she heaved the herself over the edge. She forgot to breath. Tears ran backwards up her cheeks as the bag dropped to the ground. It made a hardly audible sound on the dirty carpet. The witch slipped out the door. It wouldn't be long until he noticed she was gone, but maybe it would be long enough.

Claire wheezed, crumpled in the pouch. Her chest was tight._ I...can't breathe... _

She experienced a few seconds of excruciating pain spread across every fiber of her being.

Then her vision faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

Abels quietly slid through the employees' only door, cooly ignoring the bartender and a couple of waitresses who looked up at him with surprise. Still completely ignoring the other people's existence, he started to hum again and the tune carried him out through the employees' side entrance. The bewildered workers watched him leave, blinking at each other before a waitress wonderingly cursed and threw open the door. There was a security door that was made of thicker metal bars and was attached to a small three foot by three foot patio. It protected the employees as they came and left at all hours of the night, and they had to have a code to get out to the parking lot. But as the door flew open, the employees' confused chatter instantly stopped. The blond man wasn't stuck in the enclosed patio...He had completely disappeared.

* * *

Dean groaned and slowly pushed himself up till he was sitting. His back was still against the wall he had been flung against and he stayed slumped against it. His head was killing him. And he was pretty sure he had heard his back crack when he had hit. Scrunching his eyes shut, he reached up and touched his head to feel for any broken skin. He cursed when he found a bump, but after peering at his fingers, he at least let himself be glad that there wasn't any blood.

"You'd think this would get easier after the first 150 walls...Nope. Still hurts like hell." He rasped.

He slowly turned his head with a grunt. Before he had blacked out, the hunter had seen his target go through a door that was marked 'employees only'. Dean slowly dragged himself to his feet and made himself start walking. He tried not to think about it, but the disappointment of failing started to burn in his stomach like acid. The scowl on his face deepened. He hadn't even been able to get the thing to talk about where he was taking the girl.

IIt's either a man-witch or a demon from the way he tossed me around. Either doesn't mean anything good for that poor girl. Damn it. /I

Dean paused right before opening the door. Raising an eyebrow, he looked down into the shadows right next to the doorjam. There was a small leather pouch just sitting there, tilted on its side and looking like it had been dropped. His eyes narrowed as he studied it for a moment. But after a moment of the pouch just laying there and not growing legs or trying to kill him on its own, he reached down and carefully, but quickly, scooped it up and dropped it into his right pocket. If it looked like a witch, flung a man around like a witch, and dropped what looked like a hex bag...it probably was a witch. The weight of the bag wasn't even noticeable against his chest, and he put it to the back of his mind for now.

Dean opened the door and had a quick conversation with the employees inside. He made up a couple of lies about the man and how he just vanished before he quickly slipped away. It was better to just leave and let them be confused than to try and be creative. It wasn't something he was particularly good at when his head pounded worse than a hangover. Steadily walking back to his table, he was able to work out most of the major pain before he got there. Still unconsciously scowling, Dean pulled out enough to cover his tab and tip, and left the bar.

He held his new and unopened beer bottle to the bump on the back of his head as he walked down the sidewalk. The motel was a short walk away from the bar and he had figured he'd be fine without his car. The hunter had worried about needing some kind of gun or something from the trunk, but he had shrugged it off and thrown what he could into his pockets. He made his way down the sidewalk, carefully dodging around people who were still up and going before last call. The town they were in was a college town and full of people. It fit the pattern, but being around this many people right now made him want to hit someone.

Moments later, he reached his and Sam's room. He threw the door open and let it slam behind him. After a quick glance around, Dean saw that Sammy hadnt made it back yet. "Good. I can get some quiet before having to fill Sam in." He muttered to himself as he took his favorite leather jacket off. He folded it in half before dropping it on the edge of the bed. He dropped down next to it and pulled off his boots, carelessly flinging them into a corner when they finally came off.

Suddenly, Dean heard a soft scraping and shuffling noise. He instantly tensed and looked around the room, trying to figure out what he was hearing. The noise continued and he looked down, his eyes falling on his jacket. It was moving. A lump of some kind was moving around under it.

His eyes went round in surprise and he scooted away from it.

"Holy crap!" he shouted.

The jacket stopped moving when he raised his voice. But it had gotten far enough towards the edge that momentum gave it the final push it needed. As Dean stared at it, the jacket slid off the edge of the bed. Vials and bags fell out of his pockets, followed by the black leather pouched he had picked up.

Dean leaned down to angrily squint at everything, including a small and pale thing that rolled out of the leather pouch...

II'm alive. /I Claire raised her head, trying to make sense of the blurry vision returning to her. IHow... How am I alive? I must have fallen ten stories or something../I.

It hurt like hell to survive. Her head ached something fierce, but at least she could see straight. Finally, she had broken out of that stupid sack. She glanced back at it triumphantly as she stumbled forward, nearly bumping into the wall.

IWait... Denim- OH MY GOSH!/I

She gasped and drew back, tripping over her own feet as she backed away from the mountain of a man staring down at her. It had yet to sink in that not only was Abels a giant, everyone was gigantic now. And this new guy looked pissed as hell.

"Oh God..." She whimpered. She had to get away. No way was she going to let another man get his hands on her.

A quick glance over her shoulder: an absolutely enormous leather jacket was crumpled on the floor. A bed beyond that, and some other gaps in the distance she could probably make if she kept out of reach long enough. Though it might seem impossible to outrun a giant, that didn't stop her from trying.

In a sudden burst of desperate, life-clinging energy, Claire sprinted in the opposite direction. She could feel air rushing on her back, a shadow suddenly falling over her path. With a yelp, she ducked under the jacket sleeve, then went straight under the bed. Every step he took was like a small-scale earthquake. It made it difficult to keep a straight path. Claire glanced behind her only once- and that was a mistake. She screamed again when she saw a hand lunging for her- a hand big enough to completely envelope her body.

She didn't stop to take a breath until she was against the far wall, plastered against the stained wallpaper. IThis can't be happening. This can't be happening... /I

Dean stared down at his hand, feeling the long fibers of the rug underneath his palm. IThat was...Holy crap. Holycrapholycrap...Crap!/I The hunter's mind kept repeating the curse over and over. He was just unable to really get a grip on what had fallen out of his jacket. Trying to just breathe and not think too much, he reached for a penlight that had tumbled past his knee.

"Okay...you. I don't know...what you are...but..." Cautiously, he laid down and flashed the light under the bed. "But...let's just...try this again." Finally, his light hit the wall...and the small girl that had run under there. His eyes went round. "Whoa."

Claire shielded her eyes from the LED light. Her chest still heaving, she could barely make out the man's features beyond the glare. iSo big...so, so big... Please let this be a matrix type of thing. I'll take the red pill, please!/IThere was something familiar about his voice, but she didn't linger on that thought. She was a bit preoccupied with running for her life. Claire looked to her immediate right. There was a gap between the bed and the wooden dresser. It would be a dash into the open, but if she ran fast and took him off-guard... She could make off to the crack under the dresser. His hand couldn't fit there. It was a risk, but she took it. She didn't look back.

"Oh sh-...C'mon now!" Dean growled loudly. With a grunt, he heaved himself to his feet in time to see the tiny blond disappear underneath the worn dresser. IFor such a little...creepy tiny...blond girl...she runs pretty fast. Still hot too./i He thought to himself. He'd seen a fairy before and...that meeting hadn't gone well. But now, seeing this average girl suddenly shrunk and afraid...it made this job so much more..."Weird," he muttered softly. But it was a weird that suddenly made him feel oddly protective of this girl.

Trying to move softly, he kneeled down infront of the dresser and peered down underneath it. He couldn't see at first, so he angled the light under it. He quickly found the little girl.

"Oh...hey there." He said, tweaking the light so it didn't shine in her face. Looking at her...seeing her crazy small form and the look of fear on her face...it made his heart twist even more.

"Heyhey now...I'm not gonna hurt you. I swear. Uh... What's your name? I'm Dean."

"Piss off!" Her voice was shaking like mad, and to her surprise, so was the rest of her.

Claire scooted another inch away, even though he couldnt reach her at the moment. His immense form blocked out almost the entire line of light under the dresser, and she had to squat herself so she didnt bump her head. She had never been claustrophobic, but tonight was different. She was literally trapped down here.

Dean's soft look slipped to an indignant one. "Geez. No need to get rude now." He drawled underneath his breath. Instantly, he remembered how he had instictivly tried to grab her earlier. Suddenly uncomfortable and wondering if he was actually blushing, he cleared his throat.

He was a little older than she was, judging by his voice. She still hadn't gotten a good look at his face; right now, the best she could see was a single eye staring back at her. There was kindness there, not cold predatory leering. Claire felt herself calming a bit without her own permission. iWhy do I get the feeling that I know him?/I

"You." She finally whispered. "Y-you're that hunter.. Person... Aren't you?"

He had glanced away for a moment, but he looked back when he heard her say something.

"Hunh?" Dean scooted closer, trying to get a better look at her. She looked like she was scrunched under there. Maybe he could get her to come out sooner so she could straighten up. IGood God this is crazy. I'm...I'm actually dying to get a good look at this chick. And get some answers from her. Just can't scare her to death./i

"I couldn't hear what you said. Why...why don't you come out from under there? This isn't exactly the best way to talk to a person." He said with the laugh he used when charming a girl.

Her lips twitched upward in a smile, like she couldn't help herself. Claire felt the blood pound in her head as a sudden flurry of mixed emotions and chemicals fought inside her. She looked away from the sliver of the giant visible to gather her thoughts. IHe seems genuine... But he could be just trying to get his hands on me. But.. He was trying to stop Abels...If I can't trust him, who can i trust? He's my best shot right now.'/I

With a small sound in between a nervous laugh and a whimper, the copper-haired girl crawled forward. She counted each fistful of carpet that took her out into the open- 17 in total.

Dean grinned when he saw her calm down a little and start to crawl forward. "Okay now. There we go now." Anticipating that she'd want some breathing room, he straightened his back and scooted away from the dresser. She paused just once when she heard his loud intake of oxygen. The ground shook again- He was just moving back.

The warm light of the motel room hit her face. It was only then that she got the full image of just how much height she had lost. The hunter's body stretched several stories sbove her, and it looked like it went on for a nearly a quarter mile of denim in the other direction. She was too afraid to look up at his face. Her heart was pounding like a scared lizard, and she could see it through her blouse.

After he had shifted, the blond man turned and looked down, his hands coming down to rest on his knees. It took him a couple of moments to find her, looking down infront of his knees till he saw her...standing about a foot away from his bent knee. Dean had to slouch down so that he could see her clearly... More like gawk at her.

"Holy...What did that bastard do to you?" he said softly. His voice had taken on a hard edge as his anger started to burn harder. He looked down at her bent head. Dean had to hold his hand back from reaching out to touch her... instinctively wanting to comfort her.

"Umm.." he said, suddenly feeling like a lame, and awkward Godzilla. "So... My name's Dean. Dean Winchester. I'm a hunter. I...well I kill the weird things that do...bad things to people like you. D'you mind... Mind telling me your name?"

She craned her neck upward towards the source of the voice. IOh. He's... he's actually kinda... Really attractive. For a frickin giant./I She gaped dumbly up at him for another moment before remembering her voice.

"Uh-uh.. Claire!" She raised her voice. Hopefully he could hear her this time. "My name's Claire."

A rather proud smile slid onto his face. His chin was practically planted against his chest and his neck was bent at an awkward angle, but the hunter was able to ignore it. He was too preoccupied by the tiny blond in front of him. "Claire? It's nice to finally meet you. Oh..." he reconsidered for a moment, "Unh.. Well, it'd be nicer under better circumstances of course. And sorry about the whole ..trying to grab you thing. I usually wait 'till after drinks to get that touchy with a girl."

The joke slipped out with a an almost awkward chuckle. This whole case had completly thrown him into friggin Wonderland.

"So you-" Claire swallowed. She could see the exact texture of the denim stretched over his knees. "So you know who...what.. that guy was?"

"Oh. Umm..." He looked away for a moment and licked his lips. "Being perfectly honest...We're not entirly positive about that yet. In fact," he said and looked back down at her. Dean lost his train of thought for a second, suddenly noticing how her hair shone a gorgeous copper color under the lights. She looked back up at him, and the look in her eyes started to really bring something back to life in him... Something he hadn't exactly felt since...Lisa.

"Uhmm...yeah. I'm actually going to need your help with this." He looked around, "How about we move...you...to the table or something..?" He looked back and raised an eyebrow and shrugged. 'Don't know how we're gonna do it though.'

His hands moved occassionally while he talked, and the tiny girl stiffened,eyeing them carefully like a jumpy animal. 'But he seemed so certain at the bar...' Still, if his blatant flirting was any clue, Dean was a pretty up-front guy so far. 'Flirting with a doll-sized victim? The man has no shame... Actually, he's probably just trying to make me feel better. Dammit, it's starting to work.' Claire blushed and tucked some hair behind her ear. Her wavy hairstyle she had worked so hard on was beyond repair at this point.

She had to lean back just to see his face. Geez, he was huge... Like as tall as a building! It was still rather dizzying when she tried focusing on all of him at once. Her brain couldn't process such an existence. Not yet.

"Me?" She repeated. She followed his gaze to the table she had run beneath not two minutes ago. Claire read his mind, looking down at his hands again and taking a step back. It was a reasonable request, when she plucked emotion out of the way. She sighed loudly and clenched her fists at her sides. "Yeah, okay. Just be fast." She squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to watch.

Dean smiled down at her, really glad to see that she was doing her best to be brave. If she had been type...the hunter had no idea what he'd of done if she'd been the hystarical kind of chick. Dean didnt know that his smile had lost some of its obvious flirt-charm...and now it was a more genuine. But as he looked at her for a moment, her eyes closed and small body tense...he suddenly realized he'd actually have to...do something. "Oh...Well...um..." He looked down at her with a bewlidered look and a blush slowly spreading across his face. 'Cmon! Youre supposed to be the professional! Shes gonna get even more creeped out if you keep waiting like this...' Dean slowly brought his hand up and toward her. His fingers started to shake as they got closer...until they stopped a hairs length away. He could just feel her tiny form almost brushing his fingertips. "Oh cmon Dean!" He drawled loudly. Claire flinched at his voice and he winced. "Sorry. Just...Ok, ive never had to do THIS before. You...you got any better ideas on how I can...pick you up?" He snickered diersivly. "Getting your number, I couldve done that kind easily just to let you know." He dropped his hand to the ground, inches away from her.

Claire squeezed her eyes shut tighter, feeling his heat now... Then he stopped. She looked up at him, relaxing her stance somewhat. She raised her eyebrows at his flirtatious expression, turning to look at his hand for a moment. Her amused smile was poorly concealed as she bit her lip. 'Hell, I'd give it to him now, if he asked.'

"Like I know!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "This is kind of a first for me, too."

He consumed so much of her vision, it was hard for her brain to register he was, indeed, a human being.

"Just... do it, i don't know..." she rubbed her eyes as she glared at his hand."Come on, the big bad hunter can't handle one little girl?" She didnt know how she managed to tease a giant. His charisma was contagious, maybe.

Dean scowled at his hand as Claire responded. He was almost too embarrassed to even look at her right now. Cmon, youve touched girls in much sleezier ways before Winchester. Time to man up and...pick the girl up! Move your stupid hand! His scowl deepened, though the hunter was unaware at how much it looked more like a pout on a rugged model than anything.

His green eyes flicked back to her in surprise at her jab. Dean blinked as he took it in, seeing the small, smirking smile on her face as she looked up at him. The small girl seemed like she was actually fearless, the only things giving it away was how pale her face still was, and the way she fidgeted every now and then.

Dean felt his own smile instantly spread across his face. Ok...So this chick is pretty cool. To bad she's...well...tiny. He thought to himself. But the hunter knew that as he talked to her, her size was becoming less of a turnoff.

"Hey now there Tiny." He said, his grin taking on a mischievous edge. "This hunter has handled plenty quite frankly. I'm just..." the pause stretched on for a moment and he scratched the back of his neck, "I'm just trying to be...considerate. Yah...considerate." His smile became flustered as he thought about it for a moment. Had it been any other victim, Dean might not of acted like such a bumbling idiot. Something about the tiny, copper headed girl infront of him was defiantly catching him off guard. "Anyway," he said quickly, "lets try this again, alright?...Unh..." Suddenly feeling awkward all over again, he studied the back of his hand for a moment, but suddenly an idea lept into his brain. Dean raised his eyebrows warily and lifted his hand, laying it down infront of Claire with his palm upwards. He flattened it out, feeling the rug fibers underneath his knuckles. "So...How about this then?" Dean said, mentally congratulating himself at his thoughtfulness...and trying to ignore the giantsized bats that were suddenly flying around in his stomach, making him oddly nervous at what was about to happen.

IWow, I must be really throwing this guy for a loop. /IThe way he spoke to her- even getting nervous- made her feel like a woman... Not the tiny thing she had been reduced to. It was a shame she couldn't have run into him before this disaster date. But the sheer scale of his movements counteracted that relief; she remained with her feet spread shoulder with apart in case she needed to jump back at the last second. His face was so far away... She marveled that she would even be noticeable under his sweeping gaze.

Claire ogled his open hand, glancing up to his expression. She understood what she was supposed to do, but she hesitated all the same. While she wouldn't be forcibly engulfed by an enormous hand, this way would require her to be extra brave and take the initiative. His index finger must be longer than I am! Her neck was hurting from looking up at him from the floor. Best just do it already you big chicken,She scolded herself.

"Ohh-Kay..." She scrunched up her face and stepped up onto his palm. Her foot sank into the warm flesh a small amount. With a squeamish squeal, Claire jumped backwards and shook her head fervently. "I can't do this, I can't do this..." She muttered to herself, voice escalating as she paced furiously, fanning herself with one hand. With a groan, she looked over her shoulder at the hunter's face, then at his hand again.

"Oh, This just takes the cake..." She grumbled, approaching again. She walked into his hand. Although she whimpered at the first few steps and looked around her uneasily, Claire stood straight roughly in the center of his palm. She could see callouses and a healing cut on his wrist. With a half-hearted smile, she raised two thumbs up to let her know she was ready.

Dean looked down at the tiny girl with a pointedly flat scowl. Claire was squealing and looking at his hand as if it was something dead. IOh geez. Cmon, its a hand not a spider. /I But as he watched her try to work up her nerve and walk onto his hand, he had to try to not smile. Not only was it kinda cute to watch her pace back and forth, but it was just flat out amusing for some reason.

Looking as resolved as a happymeal-toy sized person could, Claire scrambled up onto the hunters hand. Chills instantly traveled up Deans arm and he hand to force it to stay as still as he could make it. His mouth fell open. The feeling of...crazy tiny feet walking across his PALM made his brain shut down for a few seconds. He could barely glue together the fact that this girl he had been talking to, with the fact that she was now standing in his palm.

"Umm...Yah.." he awkwardly coughed and rubbed his mouth with the back of his free hand. "Well...Glad to see that we can...figure this out." Dean slowly offered back to Claire. "So...Maybe...hold...on?" Suddenly feeling his impatience flood over, Dean lifted his hand and stood up.

He barely remembered to try to move slowly before he had straightened with his hand now level with his chest. Looking down at his open hand, he winced when he saw that the small woman had fallen back onto her rear at some point between the floor and now. Claire's hair had fallen into her face, and she was glaring up him through the copper colored locks.

Embarrassed impatience made him feel sheepish and a small blush lit his cheeks. "Hey! I did tell you to hold on."Dean bluffly said down to her as he leaned over his hand. Without even thinking about it, the blond man reached up and lightly brushed her hair out of her face. It felt incredably smooth underneath his fingertip.

His eyes widened once he realized what he had done. "Unh..Yah. Anyway." Dean's fingers slightly curled upward, cupping the tiny form more securely in his hand as he walked over to the wooden table. Moving as slowly as his flustered brain would let him, he put his palm down on the table and waited for Claire to walk off.

He stood up: her heart leapt into her throat, her stomach left stories below. Claire felt her legs go out from under her in an instant from the sheer g-force. For a moment, her body tensed, feeling a panicked lightheadedness that she had felt only once before when she rode that weird carnaval ride that spun you around and pinned you to the wall. When he spoke again, his voice was somewhat closer, more vibrant in the air around her.

"Yeah... Hold onto what?" She grumbled.

Claire froze as another massive hand consumed her vision past the disarray of hair in her eyes. The gentleness of a single fingertip brushing her face took her off guard. How could a hunter be so precise? So.. restrained? The young woman felt a rose color blossom in her cheeks when she looked past the hand to Dean's face- much closer than it had been last she checked.

Perhaps it was luck or just the opposite, but she didn't have long to consider her fluttering heartbeat.

"Thanks." She mumbled to the floor as she pushed herself to her feet. Holding her arms out for balance at her sides, Claire stepped off his his hand as gracefully as possible. Immediately, she took in the surroundings from this height, trying to look anywhere but him. There was a lamp and a dusty alarm clock from something like 1989 already occupying the wooden table. Part of her was able to recognize them as the cheap motel furnishings they were. But another, emerging part of her saw them in an entirely new light. They looked almost alien now, from only four or however many inches high she was. She had roughly estimated herself the length of Dean's ring finger, but given how hasty her night had been thus far, she realized she didn't even know exactly how much she'd shrunk. Too much. What more's important?

Glancing towards the bed, she shook her head. It was enormous! She frowned suddenly as something caught her attention.

"Um... Dean? Why did you rent a room with two beds?" She asked, dreading the answer.

"Hunh?" Dean replied absently.

He had been watching her look around the table, taking everything in as if she was just seeing all the random, everyday things for the first time. As she looked around, Claire looked almost like a tiny action figure that could move. But her movements were so...real...that he still almost couldnt believe that she was some hoodooed, spell. The look on her face was completely human though, and it made Dean wonder how he looked to her. Once her face tilted up to look at him, heat from a small flush rose to his cheeks. I probably look like a giant dork that doesnt know when to stop staring at a girl.

"What? The other bed?" The blond hunter raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. With a raised eyebrow, he turned to look at the beds. For a moment the purpose of the question eluded him and he looked at them with a blank look. "Oh! Crap. Guess I forgot to mention that." Dean looked back down at her and instantly smiled his most charming smile. He had forgotten about his own brother for awhile there, but he wondered how Sam's extra inches would effect her. He quickly decided to play it cool and cross that bridge when Gigantor got back. "The other one's for my kid brother. He was canvasing another bar, but he should be back soon. He's bringing food; probably pizza and some of his rabbit food. Hey, you hungry? I bet that we'll have enough to feed ya." Dean said with his best smile and his fastest talking tone; he usually saved it for passing over certain topics when questioning victims and people he had to get answers out of.

Dean forced a cough and pulled a chair closer, smoothly easing himself down into it. Out of habit, he set his forearms on the table before he looked over at Claire. Once his eyes found her, he saw that he had almost trapped her inbetween his arms and that she was standing only a few inches away from either of his hands. The tiny woman was looking between them with a wide-eyed look of a cornered rabbit. "Oh. Unh, yah...Sorry about that." He said sheepishly and awkwardly folded his arms in front of himself.

"Anyway," Dean said after taking a breath, trying to settle into his professional mode again. It was still getting to him. How could one, crazy small girl, put him off his game so friggin much? He had even forgotten about Sammy for awhile. But as his green eyes followed her, it was surprisingly easy for him to see why he had been so preoccupied. Her situation, how helpless she would be without the right help, how much it would take to change her back,...the list went on. But, there was also just something about...her. He tried to write it off on his protective nature and how much of a sucker he was for a pretty face.

Dean noticed that she was looking around for a place to sit, and he reached out and slowly slid a composition notebook closer to her, black binding facing toward her. "Here, try and see how that fits. Okay. So Claire...I'm gonna need to ask you some questions. But first off, I just want you to tell me the whole story here. How you met this guy, what you said, what he said,...everything."

A flicker of a frown crossed her face, and she crossed her arms as if cold. She felt like he was hiding something, but... She had always been good with kids. If she could sit here and talk with a giant, then she could certainly handle some immature teenager.

"Um... I guess..?" She called tentatively as he pulled up a chair. He had spoken so fast, she barely had the chance to answer!

Claire watched him sit down in front of her, but freaked out when his huge frame suddenly fell towards her, with one arm landing on each side. What was he doing?

She slowly relaxed again- or tried to appear relaxed, anyway. It unnerved her that he really had meant no harm. He was just being a person, and here she was... feeling like slightly less of one all the time.

"Thanks." She sat down on the edge of the book with her knees bent. It was rather like sitting on a low-level park bench. For a moment, she stared transfixed at his crossed arms in front of her. He was just so BIG! She couldn't get over that... She could feel him looking down at her seriously, and thought it best that she try to follow his lead and be cool and collected about this. Professional.

"Right, o-of course. Well, I guess it all starts with my ex-boyfriend... He was so clingy and wishy-washy. And not just him, Ryan was like that too. He was just the last in a long line of annoying exes. So I got frustrated, I guess. I finally caved and tried out one of those awful dating sites. I was always afraid I would end up with some creeper... Guess I was right." She finally cracked a laugh at her story, though finding it difficult to hold his intense gaze for more than a few seconds at a time. Her cheeks were cherry red. This was so embarrassing! Telling him her love-life issues like some chick off MTV... Not exactly keeping up her mystique.

She continued to tell him how he had contacted her first, suggested the place and time... Then the more tedious details like how many drinks she had, what type, what conversations they had at the table... Funny, looking back she saw he had simply said what she wanted to hear. All an act.

"...I felt sick. Bastard must've magically drugged my drink, or whatever it is witches do. I went to the bathroom and when I came out, he cornered me. I was... um, changing." She was stubbornly avoiding the word "shrinking" like it was contagious. Claire had her hands wrung anxiously in her lap now, staring at a button on the sleeve of Dean's shirt as she replayed the events in her mind's eye. It was all too fresh.

"He told me... Ugh." She shuddered in revulsion. "He told me I should be happy that we were made for each other, sick crap like that..."

Another sentence echoed through her mind in his wicked, pleased voice. A thought that made Claire's heart skip a beat and the blood drain from her face. She looked straight up into the hunter's eyes.

"Dean, he said he researched me. My family...He said- He said that this wasn't going to wear off." Her voice became soft, scared.

Dean stared down at Claire, slowly blinking his green eyes in slight disbelief. Somehow, he kept himself from fidgeting and stayed as still as he could. He hadnt expected for her to completely unload like that. But as he listened to her talk, her cheeks stained a bright red the entire time, he realized that while it was rather uncomfortable for her too, that she was somehow getting some of her worry and pent up emotion off her chest. It was typical for victims and the other people he tended to question; getting them to express what had happened and some stuff tied to it, kinda released some of it out of themselves. It even helped them to talk and eventually get the information out that he wanted.

Dean's patience was questionable on a good day, so he usually let Sam take some of the lead there. But today...this victim...Dean found himself doing better than usual.

Especially when he could see how Claire was almost completely calm and relaxed now. While she had been talking, the hunter had leaned down over her a little more, blinking down at the top of her copper colored head. She had picked some point on his arm to stare at and had yet to look back up at him. Her body had slowly relaxed the smallest amount, and her voice had gone from hurried and smashing her words together, to a slower and more thoughtful pace.

At some point Dean had made himself stay as still as he could, incase he even twitch and the whole thing became even more awkward for either of them. But just as he was going to let himself relax and find something witty to say, she suddenly stiffened again. Claire's unbelievably small face looked up at him, whiter than a baby's prayer, and she started to tremble just slightly.

Oh good God...She's going to cry! I dont know what to do with a normal sized crying woman, but one thats smaller than my friggin finger? Not good! Dean winced and braced himself for the sudden storm of tears. But as the seconds ticked by, he realized that she wasnt going to start crying just yet. If anything, the look of absolute fear on her face was almost worse than tears. It demanded an answer of the one person in her world that said he knew what he was doing and would help her. And Dean felt his insides tighten with the sheer need to give her the answer she wanted.

"H-Hey now." His voice caught in his throat for a moment as he tried to think of the right thing to say. "Its...Its gonna be ok Claire. Really." The need to touch her, reassure her, suddenly overcame him. Moving slowly, he slid his hand over the tables surface, and lightly touched her; his thumb lightly touched her feet, the texture of her shoes soft on his skin, and he carefully curled the rest ofhis hand around her, only touching her right side with his fingertips. He didnt want to overwhelm her, but it was the best thing the awkward hunter could think of. "Look...Me and my brother arent feds or anything like that. But that means that we know alot more people that live off the grid. And Im positive that theres some other kind of...hoodoo or voodoo or something else out there that will get you back to normal. Eventually...this will all just be a bad dream." He smiled softly at her. Silently hoping that she didnt hate what he was doing, the hunter gently rubbed her shoulder.

The moment his hand came for her, that claustrophobic feeling returned. Claire's insides knotted up at the knowledge of how easily those massive digits could trap her, and she would be next to helpless to prevent it. She suppressed a shudder as his fingers slid across her back and walled her in. Everything about him was huge and surrounding her- his body, his voice, his stare... She could see the intricate texture of his skin, the unique swirl of each finger print, the ridges on his fingernails. Too much detail. It was just too much for her, and tears begin to prick at her hazel eyes.

But his words gave her hope, spurred her to look upward at his larger-than-life face. She remembered that this hand belonged to a person. A good person. A man... Who by some stroke of crazy luck actually gave a shit that she was the size of a mouse, and wanted to help her.

How can anyone be so genuine? I mean, he barely knows me. What does he have to gain from this?

Dean's smile seemed to say "All's not lost" . She swallowed a large lump in her throat as a tingling calm began spread through her being.

Suddenly, his hand was warm, strong, careful; the circular rubbing on her shoulder was a comfort (although still pretty darn weird, considering it was just the very tip of a finger doing the job.) Very slowly, hesitantly, Claire experimented with the growing desire to lean back against him, into his touch.

As if dipping her toes into shark-infested waters, she sloped her body towards the four fingertips lined along her right side, allowing a shy fraction of her weight to rest against the hunter's hand. Then a little but more. If she closed her eyes, it was easier to believe she wasn't at the mercy of some unfamiliar giant, in a world that she was no longer suitable for.

Claire was a realist. This feeling of safety was an illusion, something she couldn't get attached to. But that didn't mean she could ignore that it actually felt kind of... Okay.

"God, I hope so.."

Click.

The door lock jiggled, and Claire nearly jumped ten feet in the air. She shot to her feet, tripping on Dean's thumb in her haste. It was only by throwing her arms out to grab his knuckle that she avoided falling flat on her face. By the time she had steadied herself again, the door was now closing, and she could faintly hear fabric shifting. She couldn't see the door past Dean's shoulders from how closely he was leaning over her, and her eyes snapped onto his large green ones, silently sending him a barrage of questions.

She was ashamed that her first reaction to the approaching footsteps was to cower behind Dean's hand like a little animal. No way. I refuse to stoop that low. I may be.. Smaller.. But I've still got my dignity!

Claire's eyes widened when the man she assumed to be his brother came into view. He was a far cry from the gangly teenager she had been anticipating. He was no longer a boy, but a man. For a split second, her eyes darted back to Dean, looking betrayed. I guess I took "kid" too literally... Oh my gosh, he's even bigger than Dean!

The blood drained from her face, brain boggled by the notion that anyone could be larger than the already gigantic man before her.

"Hey. They were out of pepperoni, so you'll have to deal with plain cheese." Sam announced, putting the pizza box down on the little table. When Dean didn't complain, he gave his brother a closer look and frowned at his odd position over the night stand.

"What are you doing?"

Dean's breath caught in his throat. He could feel Claire actually leaning into his hand. The woman's tiny shoulders pressed into the skin of his fingers, and then the rest of her body. And then her face touched his hand. He was really glad that she wasnt looking up at his face right now, because his mouth was probably hanging open from disbelief. Holy crap...I can actually feel all of her face just against my finger...the one finger for cripes sake! This is just crazy. How are we supposed to help someone this small? And a girl too! I lived with one long enough to know that they...do things differently. How the hell are two dysfunctional human beings like me and Sam supposed to make sure she stays friggin sane till we can...un..shrink..her?!

The hunter felt the sudden need to fidget, pull at the collar of his shirt to get more air into his lungs, do something other than focus on the tiny woman in his hand. But Dean knew that he wouldnt move until she was ready to move. Cause as much as the realization of the responsibility he was taking on, had hit him across the face, the hunter also knew that Claire was already very important to him. Even if she was fixed tonight and safe to live out her life without having him around, Dean would have a hard time rolling away in the morning.

Her voice broke him out of the zombie chase of crazy thoughts going on in his head. Blinking, he focused in on her. She was actually relaxed. Even as sad as her bird-like voice had been, she actually looked relaxed in his hand. Dean felt his heart lurch. Not many people were actually like that around him; Sam of course, they spent way the hell too much time together, Bobby was like their dad and if the grouch ever did relax, it was usually around them...and that was it. There might of been others, but either werent speaking to him at the moment, or were just dead. All of his one night stands...

Suddenly the door opened and Sam ducked in. Dean instantly froze and his eyes went wide, watching poor Claire react to his brother's loud and casual entrance. And when she focused her glare on him, the blond hunter cringed. Guess she figured out that my "kid brother" statement might have been an exaggeration.

Dean was almost glad when Sam walked over to loom behind him. He turned his grey eyes away from the scared looking Claire and looked over his shoulder at Sam.

"Me? Nothin'. Nothin'. How the hell can a pizza place run out of freaking pepperioni? You couldve at least got some sausage on the thing." He said quickly. Dean could feel where Claire was in relation to his hand, and he carefully pulled his hand away from her so that he could stand up.

The hunter didnt know why he didnt automatically introduce Sam to Claire. Maybe it had something to do with the look in her face when she had heard the door open. Maybe it was the odd guilt that had hit him when the mouse sized woman had finally seen his brother. Or maybe it was just his protective streak that made him stand so that Sam couldnt see Claire yet. Whatever it was, it had guilt and awkwardness written across his face.

"Whatever. You'll just have to buy dinner again tomorrow." Dean said, plastering a grin on his face.

"What?" Sam said, backing away when Dean refused to move and made their proximity to each other awkward. He scowled at his slightly shorter brother. Catching Dean off guard tended to make him the worse lair in the world; he was hiding something. Exceptionally curious and starting to get annoyed, he crossed his arms. "Bullcrap. It's not my fault that they ran out. And Im not getting sausage. I think I remember you almost having a heartattack when that one witch turned you into Clint Eastwood's grandfather. Now, what are you hiding? You look like a kid that just peed his pants and tried to hide them."

Sam grinned when Dean's face instantly turned into a murderous scowl and he took a couple of steps forward. Laughing at his brother's predictability, he slid past him and looked down at the tabletop. At first Sam didnt see what his brother had been looking at, and his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. But when something moved, his eyes instantly snapped back towards it. At first he thought it was a tiny doll. But when he saw it take a step back, its eyes bright from an emotion that was probably fear, Sam quickly realized what he was looking at.

The taller hunter's eyes went round from shock and he looked back at Dean, stuttering in his surprise. "Th-tha-...Thats-...Dean! Wha-..?"

"It's a girl you idiot." Dean said. He was scowling, but his lips were turned up just slightly in satisfaction at his brother's reaction. "Stop staring. You probably look like a giant, dying fish to her." Taking advantage of Sam's shock, he pulled Sam a few feet away from Claire and made him stand by him. "Sam, this is Claire. Claire is the newest victim of whatever we've been looking for. Now if you can stop being an idiot, maybe she'll want to actually say hi to you. Cause I doubt she'd be too impressed if you fainted right now." Dean grinned down at Claire, hopping she was doing ok.

Dean standing up did nothing to help her nerves. She couldn't see past him, but then again neither could Sam. He didn't seem concerned about me meeting his brother before. Should I be worried? What if this guy has anger management issues?

And then Dean was gone, leaving her exposed. The light dimmed over her as another massive body replaced Dean's and leaned over the table. Claire stumbled back from the unfamiliar giant, managing not to trip over the composition book.

_Lady luck must enjoy screwing me over._

She blushed madly; Dean had to basically introduce her like a child. But his smile made her realize how hard he was trying. She had to try a little, too. Determined to overcome this pathetic streak, Claire ran her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath.

"It's.. It's nice to meet you?" After a moment of hesitation, she thrust a hand out towards him.

Sam's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he stepped forward and delicately pinched the impossibly small hand between a finger and thumb and moved it up and down once. He could feel the minuscule bones under the skin, her tendons twitching occasionally under his touch. It was incredible.

"Y-yeah..." He replied breathlessly.

Needless to say, she was glad to have her hand back. There was an awkward moment where she shifted her weight, feeling immensely tiny. She refused to continue relying on Dean as the one familiar thing in the room. Come on, just open your big mouth!

"I kinda invited myself to dinner. I hope that's okay."


	3. Chapter 3

"Unnnhh..heh. Yah." Sam replied, unable to stop staring at the tiny girl standing on the desk. A half smile pushed onto his face. "I-its fine. We got more than enough food for guests."

Dean rolled his eyes, knowing that his brother was likely still in a stupor and only finally understanding what he was seeing. _He probably doesn't realize he's got his stupid smile on._

But as Dean's green eyes went back to Claire, he noticed that she was more relaxed than he thought she'd be. A frown twitched at the edge of his mouth. He never got why people fell for his brother's dopey, lost, and loveable puppy side. Most of the time it wasn't an act either, and vics would fall right for it and spill their guts like teenagers stopping at confession after spring break._Whatever. If it keeps Claire calm...Then..fine._

He saw his brothers mouth open, probably about to ask her about the attack..._or if she wants him to paint her nails for her._ A faint smirk curled the corner of Dean's mouth and he reached for Sam's shoulder.

"Of course we got enough. Now why don't we go get it all served out," he said with a thinly veiled, pointed tone as he hauled Sam to his feet. The taller man stumbled back as he stood, falling in step with his brother. Dean gave the shrunken woman his most charming smile, hoping she didn't think he was acting like a crazy psycho.  
"...And you can...have a moment to yourself. No need to haul you to the dinning table just yet."

Claire returned a half-hearted smile, watching as Dean basically shoved Sam out of the room. It was strange to see the guy who had been so calm and in control only minutes before suddenly be so.. odd. But she could take a hint. They obviously needed to talk in private. She shuddered, coming to terms with the fact that her life was not in her control anymore. She had escaped from Abels' hands... and landed with these guys. She wanted to think that was a good thing, but nothing was certain for her right now.

Dean pulled Sam into the small kitchen, just out of sight of the main room, and immediately put a warning finger into his face.

"Okay, ground rules! No staring stupidly at the pretty, action-figure sized victim! She's been through a hell of a lot tonight and we'll probably need to go over her story again before any of us sleep. Meaning, I won't have your sappy, needy, hands-on, way of treating vics, creepin' her out!

"I am not needy when I talk to vics!" Sam interjected. Not that it did much good.

"I've got a...a good repore going with her already so... Just let me take the lead."  
Dean suddenly realized how randomly demanding he sounded, and his last sentence ended with a gruff twitch of his shoulders that looked like an attempted at a dismissive shrug. Sam scowled, taken aback a bit by Dean's enthusiasm.

"Uhm, yeah.. sure." It was with slight confusion and hesitation that Sam agreed to follow Dean's lead on this one. What was up with him? Sam studied him, unwavering until he found the explanation he'd been looking for.

"Wait.. you don't..?" A slow smile spread on his face, while Dean's poker face struggled not to crack. "Are you into her?" Sam asked incredulously. it wouldn't have been the first time Dean had tried to get a date with a victim, but he did tend to have a type... And as far as he was aware, shrunken chicks weren't included in that.

"No I don't! You gotta thing for her!" Dean immediately shot back, glaring at his brother as a slight blush hit his cheeks.  
Sam sent him a condescending smile. "Is this where I say 'I'm rubber, you're glue...'"

"Just cut it out assface." Dean growled back.

Dean grabbed a stack of paper plates and stomped over to the fridge. He opened the door and stuck his head into it even though he didn't need to search for what he was looking for. _Unless my freakin pride and brain hid their useless asses in here._ He hardly even wanted to think about why he was acting the way he was. He just knew he had to watch himself. He'd never hear the end of it from Sammy if he let...this...whatever it was...get out of hand.

Claire finally let her forced smile drop when they were well out of the room. Her cheeks were flaming hot with embarrassment as she replayed the last few minutes in her head. The hunters' voices were just barely distinguishable from the kitchenette, but she wasn't sure she'd like what she heard, so she tried to ignore them. She turned around, looking at the nightstand. Alone, unacknowledged, it was easier to relate the alarm clock than to the immense human beings staying here. And that scared her.

Looking over at the dining table just beyond the nearest bed, Claire suddenly lit up. What if she could make it over there? Impress them... maybe prove that she wasn't so helpless after all. While they continued talking, she shoved the composition book over the gap between the nightstand and the bed. She flounced across her makeshift bridge with pride onto the neat bedspread. A part of her wanted to marvel at the sheer size of a bed this size, but she was pressed for time. She jogged to the foot, then carefully climbed down to the floor. It was all going perfect until she realized she was smaller than she estimated in her head. She couldn't even climb the chair to get to the tabletop after all. Her heart leapt to her throat and whirled around. The two brothers had finished their conversation faster than expected.

Grabbing what he wanted, Dean stood up and gave Sam a solid look that he hoped would shut him up.

"Either way, we gotta really watch out for this girl. From what she was saying, the guy who did this is a REALLY bad deal." Sam caught onto Dean's tone and fell for the change in topic.

"What do you mean?...And hey! That's my left over ham sandwich!" Sam complained.

Dean walked over to the kitchen entrance and raised his eyebrows at Sam.

"And _you_ should've gotten sausage on the pizza. Hey Claire, sorry about that. Just brother...stuff you know." Dean's voice became louder as he stepped into the main part of their room and looked over towards where he had left the small woman. The hunter instantly froze when he saw that the table was vacant, and the notebook pushed ovr onto the bed. "If you want sausage so bad why don't you just go to a gay bar-" Dean heard Sam mutter, coming closer. Dean's arm shot out and stopped his brother from moving.

"Claire? Where are you? This isn't funny." Dean said as he looked everywhere he culd from where he was.

Claire felt them coming more than she heard them. Big, heavy footsteps from people who didn't even know she was on the floor. As Dean's voice rose with his entrance, Claire dove under the chair, plastering herself to the back of the leg. All of a sudden, the terror came rushing up like a pool at her feet, threatening to pull her under again. Is this what mice felt like? Poor things.

There was a moment of silence as she debated whether it would benefit her to stay hidden or not. She kinda liked this Dean guy. Both of them seemed weird, but kind-hearted... And again, she didn't want to piss of a couple of giants.

Claire stepped out into the open. Her heart skipped a beat, looking up at them from this vantage point. Just when she was starting to get... less terrified of their massive size, she had to see them like this. She started to shake, but before she could talk herself out of it, their eyes were locked on her. She gave a sheepish smile and a shy wave.

"Whoa," both men said at the same time. They stood completely still and stared at her with almost identical, dumbfounded looks. Dean felt his insides curl and his heart jump into his throat. The first time he had seen her, he had barely enough time to...marvel. but now...she was...so small. She was a person. A pretty girl. And she was barely 4inches tall.

"I got a little ahead of myself." She tried to call loud enough, but honestly doubted they heard that.

Her small voice finally hit Dean's brain and he shook his head, trying to dislodge something in his head to make it work again.

"Hunh? Whatd you say? Here. Hold this." Dean said and shoved the plates and sandwich into Sam's chest without even looking at him. The taller man grunted but still didn't move. All he could do was stare. He was used to being big...but this was so crazy it almost scared him.

Dean knelt down in front of Claire, his green eyes locked on her. He was so focused on getting her and getting her off the floor he only just saw how she nervously shifted and twitched, and her eyes would only dance over to his and then quickly look away. Once she was in arms reach, he had to stop himself from just grabbing her.

"What did you say? And what are you doing down here? You could...you couldve gotten hurt." He saw her wince at his words. Dean didn't want to sound harsh; she was a grown woman and could do what she wanted. But he couldn't stop his protective side from sliding out in full force. What he didn't know is that his usual worried scowl was marred by a deeper felt worry and even care that shone in his confused green eyes. He placed his hand next to her, palm up without even thinking of how odd it was. He just waited for an answer.

It was like listening to an earthquake talk. As he got closer, her knees turned to jelly._Sobigsobigsobig-_ her heart thrummed to a worried rhythm. She kept her gaze floor-ward; cause the closer he got, the scarier it was to realize she could hardly even see his face from here. Even when he first found her, he had never been standing over her like this... His knees landed on either side of her, prompting her to look up again. It wasn't exactly reassuring to have a 70-odd foot man scowl down at her, but nonetheless she found his face closer than before. It made innocent questions seem like threats. Claire opened her mouth to answer, but was distracted by the movement of his hand. It lay, waiting. Annoyance twitched across her face. She almost got the feeling that he was just trying to show off to his little brother how he had the miniature woman trained like a little circus animal.

"It was just me being stupid." She said bitterly, projecting this time so he could hear. She crossed her arms Across her chest and stared at his hand before reluctantly climbing aboard.

"Wait? What?" Dean asked incredulously. He raised an eyebrow at her and watched her with a peeved expression. Even though he was talking right at her and she was standing on his friggin hand, Claire was still refusing to look at him. He scowled at her, his blond eyebrows furrowing together. _Chicks, Man!_

"Look Claire, it's a simple question." He said in a half growl as he stood, cupping the hand she was in so that she'd be more stable. "I get that you've been through...a lot tonight." Dean's words quickly slowed down and he took a deep breath. The tiny woman was doing her best to look mad and ignore him...but he could feel her trembling. The feeling instantly reminded him that she'd been through hell and was in an utterly defenseless situation. He guessed she had a right to throw a temper tantrum.

"Okay, you've had probably the worst night of your life. I just...need you to be honest with me." He said in a slow, reasonable voice. Sam tried to not let his mouth drop open in shock. He had been convinced he'd need to intervene, but his brother had surprised him. Decieding to stay quiet, he sat down and put a top to a cardboard box down on the table. Claire could sit on it and feel like she was at least sitting on something other than a giant table.

Dean continued to stare at Claire, completely absorbed with the feeling if her in his hand and trying to explain. "If almost any other hunter found you... They'd likely of thrown you in a cage- just on the chance you were a trap left by this Abels guy. So...you want to...walk around...thats cool. Just let us know beforehand."

Cages? Oh God.. Was that how these hunter guys thought? Cold. It made her sick to think that he might have considered that even for a moment. Claire's eyes darted to the other hunter momentarily, then to Dean's shirt. Then to the palm beneath her. But eventually she couldn't resist and gave into the magnetic pull of Dean's gaze. He managed to both interest and terrify her all at once. There was anger in his face, but kindness too.

"I get it." She nodded. "I'll play it safe till I'm less fun-sized." She tilted her head to the side and tried out a small, wry smirk at him.

Dean nodded. "You've got to trust us. We're a couple of weirdos, but we're weirdos who know how to help." Dean finished with a lopsided smile and scratched the back of his neck, hoping he hadn't embarrassed himself by talking too much. Sam tried not to choke on a bite of salad. Dean was... practically acting like a mature human being.

Claire gave a small, slightly bitter laugh. "I've met freakier geeks than you guys. Compared to the LAST man I dated, you're a breath of fresh air." She waggled her eyebrows at him as she adjusted her seat in the centered of his hand.

As she talked, her bird-like voice chuckling up at him... Even giving him a cute little smirk... Dean felt his mouth slowly drop open even as he started to smile.  
"Heh," he huffed slightly grinning a dopey grin at Claire, "Always glad to be the normal one on any list. In my profession, you can guess that doesn't happen often." Dean chuckled with resignation.

Turning around, he stepped up to the table and slowly put his palm on the overturned boxtop, patiently waiting for Claire. With wobbling steps, the shrunken woman padded along Dean's love line and stepped down onto the cardboard box. He glared darkly at his brother's raised eyebrows, practically snarling when Sammy silently chuckled down into his container of rabbit food.

"Unheh. Just be kind to my baby brother Claire. He tries and really is a nice guy...But he just always ends up tripping over those big ol puppy eyes he thinks works, scares em right off with offers of tea and cookies and footrubs, and just comes off as a big, needy, soul sucking zombie." Dean grinned evilly as he plopped down in his seat and grabbed the sandwich from where Sam had tried to hide it under a newspaper.

She missed the silent interactions behind her, but Sam's face darkened in an annoyed scowl. His big brother's spurts of needless immaturity never ceased to amaze him... and irritate him.

Claire turned to face them. It was kinda overwhelming, but her nervous smile grew into a wider, genuine one as she caught the look shared between them. Sibling rivalry was something familiar... something that made them seem a little less scary.  
"I dunno, pizza's a pretty good peace offering in my book." She smiled at Sam, and was relieved that he actually seemed to understand the humor. He handed her a tiny sliver of pizza and she sat down on the box, legs dangling over. She knew by the fact that a colossal finger and thumb pinched it that it was super small. But once it was in her own hands, she pretended that it was just a super deep dish slice from that Chicago restaurant she visited once. "Mm..." She made a noise of contentment after swallowing the first flavorful bite. "Thanks." She shone her gratitude way up towards the hunters, then lowered her head again and got back to eating.

Looking up from intently unwrapping Sam's sandwich, he looked over at Claire, unaware he looked like a surprised 7yr old. "Hunh? Oh.." he said once his eyes fell on the tiny woman. He grinned back at her, watching as she munched down her pizza like a champ. 'No crazy delicate bites for that little lady.' he thought with a chuckle at his own joke.

"No worries Claire. Whatever you need, just let us know." Forcing himself to not stare at the action-figure sized woman, Dean looked back at his own food. But his moving glance caught onto Sam's raised eyebrow look. Even as Dean scowled at him, Sam's eyebrows raised even higher and he mouthed back what his brother had just said. Dean's eyes narrowed into warning slits, and if a four inch woman wasn't sitting there, he probably would have thrown something at him. _It'd probably scare the life out of Claire. And it'd be undignified as hell._  
Going back to the ham sandwich, Dean tore the sliced meat into pieces and put it onto his pizza. The hunter quickly fell into his own thoughts, eating silently for awhile while he tried to sort things out. Realizing how quiet he'd been, he reached for another pizza slice.

"Umm..heh yah..." he coughed out and looked down at Claire. "I've been thinking about what we do from here. And mostly, I think we need to go over your story again. this time take it real slow, step by step. So both me and Sam can write down and ask about details." He paused when Claire tensed and looked away from him. "Look. Claire. I know it's not gonna be pretty." The hunter tried to take the hard edge out of his voice and ended up yawning by accident. The last few nights had been even more sleepless than usual.  
"But it's necessary." Sam quickly cut in, giving the tiny woman an understanding smile. "We run into crazy kinds of...people. and a random detail can be important."

Dean nodded. "Exactly. Especially what the creep said. Like you told me about something he said about researching you? But after all that, we can call it a night and start early tomorrow. And well...not to invite myself over," the hunter said with a grin, "We can go to your place in the morning, if you want. Grab stuff that you may want and all that."  
What Dean didn't want to say yet, was that he'd also need to see if this witch had put any kind of spell bags, or whatever, in her home. She was going to have enough problems sleeping.

"No that's fine. Whatever needs to happen to.. Fix me." Claire looked cutely expectant as she accepted their terms like the recieveing end of a business dealing. She gave a little laugh at the thought of them coming to her house, though the thought truthfully made her uneasy. She finished her pizza and sat back, waiting for them to finish too. She pretended to fiddle with her blouse and look around her surroundings... Anywhere but Sam and Dean. The process of them eating was unnerving and awkward, since everything was amplified to her. She tried not to think about how they could probably bite her in half. Ugh.. But still, it gave her time to replay the night in her mind, gather her thoughts. It was unpleasant to say the least.  
Dean simply nodded in reply. Satisfied and crazy relieved at the small womans response, the hunter grabbed another slice and plopped it down on his plate. The blond man didn't know what he would've done if she had started to cry or plead with them or something else over-emotional. _It's almost as easy as just chilling with Sam...or something.  
_  
Sam eyebrows remained skyward most of the meal. If he wasn't seeing it for himself, he would have never believed it. Dean hitting on a doll-sized lady. Not that Sam had anything against small women, but four inches was pretty extreme. Headed into almost kinky territory. But glancing out of the corner of his eye, he had to admit that with some of his wariness gone, he could finally see that Claire was a beautiful woman. Sam stabbed at his salad.

When the brothers had finished eating, they both cleared the plates and even remembered to wash their hands of pizza grease before going back to the table. Claire ended up going through a second interrogation, this time pausing to answer their additional questions. Sam had even taken to jotting a few of the details down. The man's name, assuredly, amongst other scrawled notes she couldn't make out. Claire mirrored their business-like attitude, keeping her answers as clear and concise as possible.

"...Yah, I found him in the back hallway. I..unh...picked up Claire and we got out of there right after that. " Dean added on after she finished, giving Claire a charmingly apologetic smile as he brushed over how he had carelessly shoved the bag she was in, into his pocket earlier.

"But something that caught my attention...You said something about..." Sam flipped some pages, "..how he looked you up? Said something about...you two being made for each other? Can you tell me exactly what he said?" Sam raised an eyebrow and unintentionally leaned in closer. This was different than what info they had from the other cases. Finally- A new lead.

"H-he uh..." Claire leaned away in return as Sam leaned in, while gripping the edge of the box she sat upon. It was easier to deal with giants at a distance. "Yeah, he said he had done a background check on me... On my family. Something about my ancestor interbreeding with some type of magical creature?"  
She shook her head, feeling certain she was clinically insane as the words exited her mouth. Her eyes darted back up to Dean for a moment as she reiterated what she told him earlier in a calmer voice. "According to him, whatever's in my blood will keep the spell active... Indefinitely." God she felt dizzy admitting that. How could this night have gone so horribly wrong? She put a hand to her head.

Dean's eyes narrowed at her soft voice. "Hmmm..." he thoughtfully hummed, looking away and reached up to absently rub at his chin. Earlier they only had a thin, but rather solid profile for their perp. Now after hearing Claire...  
"Something's changed with him. Or maybe..." His green eyes flicked down to the woman sitting not to far from his elbow. "Or maybe there's a specific reason..."  
He trailed off, both hunters sharing the same pensive intensity as they tried to find significance in the limited information. Claire shifted uncomfortably before breaking their silence.  
"Do you guys have a matchbox lying around I can curl up in? I need to lie down."

"Hunh? Oh.." Dean looked down at himself, half expecting to find what she asked for popping out of thin air. He kept his eyes averted as his suddenly blank mind couldn't seem to start working. He carried matcboxes with him all thw time. ...Right? Sam leaned away flom Claire, finally seeing that he had made her severely uncomfortable.

"A matchbox?" Sam interjected, "how about..."

He looked around. His eyes stopped on the end table: it was pressed up against one wall next to Dean's headboard and a wall. "How about...in a drawer...? It sounds crazy! I know." Sam nodded towards the one table. "But you'll have a little privacy in there. You can sleep on a clean shirt...unh..." Sam let the thought trail off, knowing it wasn't ideal by any means. But Dean backed him up,

"And! It'll be quiet in there if it gets half way shut. Whaddya say?"

Claire raised an eyebrow. A _shirt? _Oy vey… Then she burst out giggling, looking between them.

"You two could be real estate agents for the Borrowers." She chuckled. Claire brushed off the oversized crumbs from her blouse. She remembered distantly trying on a dozen different shirts before settling on this one- a perfect balance, one that sent the message "i'm both respectable and fun-loving". Too bad it seemed to send Abels the message "please shrink me down and strip me of my dignity".

With a silent sigh, she hopped down from the edge of the box.

"Consider me sold." She shrugged with a forced smile and motioned towards the side of the room behind Sam. "You mind, uh…? Oh!"

Before she even finished the question, Sam was already reaching for her. She tensed initially, but found his grip to be incredibly gentle. She could feel the caution he exercised, alternating minute amounts of pressure to find an appropriate way to pick her up. Sam noticed Dean's heavy gaze locked onto him every step of the way, but he didn't do anything rash. Claire mentally said a prayer of gratitude that Sam had washed his hands after the pizza.

When Dean saw Claire motion towards the table he had suggested, his hand had automatically started to move. His fingers were uncurling and his palm seemed to tingle from the memory of holding her earlier. But before the blond man could offer the tiny woman his open palm, his brothers hand had already reached her. A small, surprised, and even kinda strangled grunt escaped his mouth as Sam's fingers wrapped around Claire and picked her up. Deans mouth almost dropped open, but instead his jaw clenched. Dean could hardly understand why he was so tense. It just felt...so damn wrong to see the delicate girl in someone else's hands.  
What Dean didn't know is that Sam could hardly understand his own impulsive reaction. He was just glad that he hadn't freaked her out. Even though feeling this...miniscule...person...girl...with a life and a fast beating little heart, in between his fingers... It was a heavy feeling. It almost made him feel...powerful. Like something he'd felt before... But the few steps it took to reach the table, was just enough time for him to realize what was happening to him. He set Claire down on the tabletop, sickened at himself and suddenly exhausted. He hoped his desire to protect this victim and bag another magical horror was stronger than whatever was still twisted in him.  
She thanked him meekly as he let her down onto the little side tabletop and opened the drawer. She looked down into it. Deeper than she thought it would be. Dean walked over to the other side of the bed and pulled his duffel out from under the bed. He reached in and grabbed a clean, black t-shirt.

"Here. Just cleaned everything and haven't been able to put any of it back yet." He said as he loosely folded it. Scooting over to the side of his narrow bed, Dean half forced Sam out of the way by swinging his legs over so he could face Claire. Just looking at her, he felt something relaxing and constructing simultaneously inside his chest. Carefully, he pulled the drawer open and put the shirt inside.

"Oh...Maybe this'll help." He said, suddenly having an idea. Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his smallest flashlight. It had a teather on the end and had a flat side, making it easier to balance on the drawers bottom.

"The battery is new, so you're good there. Just maybe keep then light to the back so it doesn't shine out. Either way, I'll be right here if you need anything." He gave her a rather proud of himself smile and offered his palm in case she wanted help in.

Though she was certain they meant the best, it was hard not to feel a little demeaned when she was essentially offered a nightlight. Claire's entire body was perpetually tensed at this point; two giants moving around and picking her up with those big hands tended to make even the most level headed person grow become knotted with anxiety.

She stepped up to the edge of the offered hand and summoned the courage to look way up at its owner. For a moment, she stood there with lips parted and uncertainty on her tongue. She didn't fully understand why he was helping her or what the hell was with the whole "witch" thing. But her gratitude was increasing exponentially the longer she was around him. But when translated into words, all Claire could manage was a soft spoken,  
"Thanks."

She stepped onto his warm, calloused palm and miraculously managed to remain standing as he lowered her into the drawer. She stepped off and the hand drew away. A shadow crossed over the already dim drawer. Dread clenched at her stomach but she couldn't resist turning around. She could hardly even see their heads and shoulders now; most of the giants were obscured by the walls of the drawer. She quickly averted her gaze back to her feet, pretending to be intently concentrated on each footstep. The black cotton sank in under her weight like a padded mattress.

_I'm sleeping inside his shirt. His SHIRT! This is...ridiculous. I'M ridiculous._

It was alarming, being contained in here like an object. She had never been claustrophobic but her gut told her this was messed up. It was bizarre to step over a tag that she could read clearly like a concert flyer. The tiny woman slipped under the lip of the tshirt collar and curled up in it like an oversized sleeping bag.

"You ready?" Sam's voice reverberated oddly around the wooden space. Claire squeezed her eyes shut like a stubborn child and refused to answer. She just wanted to disappear. Sam glanced at his older brother, who seemed to be more attuned to reading Claire's body language. Dean looked down at her for a moment, them gave a small nod to go ahead. The little gasp of surprise as the drawer was pushed in half way was inaudible to their ears.

Sam had a horrifying thought about cockroaches and spiders as he stood up. He forced himself to shake it off. This motel wasn't nearly the crummiest one they'd stayed at. She'd be safe.

Claire heard their deep voices exchange a few words out there. Heard them move around and lift covers with ease that would weigh more than a whale to her now. The tears that had threatened to come all night finally came in silence, muffled into the black shirt.

She felt violated. Insignificant. Puny. Helpless. Bruised and left to the care of two men who supposedly hunted monsters for a living. The despairing idea that they would fail plagued her incessantly. What would happen to her then? Would they keep her as a pet? Toss her on the streets?

Despite her insistence to herself that there was no way she would actually be getting a wink tonight, Claire was out within the hour, a motionless shape lost in black fabric.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean sat, staring at the more than half closed drawer. He wasn't the most sensitive guy-that was obvious even to him every now and then. But when Claire had stepped onto his hand, he could literally feel how tense and tired and...scared she was. Sam said something in a quiet voice, but Dean didn't hear his brother, his green eyes absently watching his fingers lightly curl to touch his palm.

"Dean?"

The blond hunter jumped and swore under his breath when a pillow hit him on the back of his head. Scowling faintly, he stood up and looked at his younger brother.

"What?" He hissed.

Sam dropped the bed sheets he had pulled back, his hands going up in a fake gesture of surrender.

"Don't we need a game plan for tomorrow?" Sam asked.

Dean continued to scowl at his brother as his mind switched from...emo weirdness, and tiny...beautiful...women...and back to what the Winchesters needed to do. Making himself ignore slightly ajar drawer somewhere around his hip, he stomped over to the bathroom door and jerked his head, signaling toward it. Sam raised his eyebrow as his brother flicked on the bathroom light and turned on the sink. He stepped over and leaned against the doorjam.

"Calling me over to the bathroom? Should I be afraid to drop the soap?"

"Don't be cute Sammy." Dean said in a quiet growl. He grabbed his toothbrush and squirted toothpaste onto it. "What's with you and just...grabbing her like that, huh?"

Blood drained from Sam's cheeks. "Wha-...what? I was...just helping her out!" He sputtered.

"Yah, sure thing. Idiot." Dean grunted over his toothbrush. He spat into the sink and kept talking. "Tomorrow, you are going to get up early and go back to the bar I found Claire at. Do the Fed act and get some answers. You know what...Say you're her cousin or something. It's too early for law enforcement to take an official report. Try and see what they saw, if they knew the guy... Maybe recognize the name Ables. Even urban legends at this point would be a step forward."

Sam cleared his throat, trying to forget how he felt earlier, holding Claire. "Alright, I can do that. What about you? Gonna keep an eye on her I'm guessing?" Sam smiled a small, smug smile when Dean seemed to blush a little.

"Shut up. I'm gonna take Claire to her place. We're gonna close it up, make it look like she took a last minute trip... And I need to see if there's any more hex bags around the place. It's likely Man-witch had her place magically bugged for months. He's been planning this one out."

Sam frowned and grabbed his own toothbrush as Dean moved to the towels. "Maybe you should wait till I can go too-..."

"No. I think the longer we wait, the more chance we have of losing this guy. Or...and this is what im really worried about...That he's gonna go there himself to...I dunno. He seems like a real creep though. And the sooner we can get him off our tail and on to his, the better. I'll call Bobby too."

Sam nodded and let his brother walk back into their room. Dean seemed to be seriously focused and in complete hunter mode now. Usually it was best to stand back and support him when he got this way. Dean took a deep breath as he grabbed his duffel and found a pair of sweats. Checking that the drawer was as closed as he remembered, he quickly changed into the sweats. He sat down in the bed and pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner. He stared at the table for a moment more, and then carefully turned the light off...he just kept his fingers from trailing over the tabletop before laying down.

Low rumbling awoke Claire, accompanied by vibrations that shook her entire bed. What the heck? Was a plane flying real low or something...?

_Footsteps,_ a part of her mind corrected her. Claire opened her eyes. She didn't move, didn't complain or scream. She blinked, staring at the half-lit wooden wall across from her. The light illuminating the bottom third of the room wasn't sunlight; it was incandescent light.

'I'm four inches tall, sleeping in a nightstand drawer... In a motel who knows where... Sam and Dean were their names I think... Oh God, I'm in Dean's shirt! Still not sure how I feel about that. I can't believe this is actually happening...'

Her sleepy mind stated facts, keeping instinctual panic at bay for now. Quietly, Claire stood up, taming her mussed hair as she crept forward toward the edge of the drawer. Standing on her very tiptoes, she could barely wrap her fingertips over the edge. Not enough to pull herself up. Damn. She rocked back onto her heels with a sigh, but paused to listen in as they started talking... From the gist of it, she gathered that Sam was getting ready to leave... Dean was giving him walking directions to the bar. It was weird, there was a clear discipline in their methods, even though they worked outside of law enforcement.

Sam promised to call with information, and shut the door behind him. Dean grunted as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He had forgotten about the wall he had been thrown at last night. The bruises on his shoulder and back hadn't though. 'Good God. I probably don't want to know what ugly ass color they are now.' Taking in a deep breath, he stood up and swung his arms over his head, feeling the stretch pull at the stiff and bruised muscles. He winced and pulled the bruised arm behind his head to better stretch it. The hunters brain was already moving towards his normal wake up routine, his thoughts slowly grinding toward pushups and a warm shower; the cool room sent goosebumps across his bare torso.

As she heard the door close, there was a shifting of fabric that sounded like Dean standing up. Crap, if she didn't get his attention now, who knows when he'd decide to let her out?

"Dean! Wait!"

Rolling his head around to stretch his neck, Dean stepped to find a clear spot in the room, when he heard a soft, rather high pitched sound. Like a bird maybe? Or...

_Oh...geez, that's right._ Hand reaching up to absently run through his messy short hair, he turned towards the night stand.

"Claire?" his voice was still thick and he noisily cleared it. He reached for the drawer and started to pull it out, but instantly stopped and winced when he heard a surprised squeak. "Oh crap. Sorry, Claire."

His voice sounded like a guilty kid. Moving slower he pulled the drawer out and looked down. Seeing her again after a night made him pause. She was just incredible. He grinned sheepishly at her miffed face.

"Unh...you want out of there then?" He laid his hand next to her like he had last night. She looked so small next to his hand. "I was gonna...do some push ups and stuff and grab a shower. You wanna wait on the bed? It'll be warmer than the table I guess."

Claire shot him an annoyed look. the drawer would NOT be happening again. It was so nerve-wracking every time they opened or closed it. She nearly did a double take between Dean and his hand when it sank in that he was not only a giant to her- he was shirtless. She felt nervous as she stepped onto his palm, but not entirely out of fear strangely enough.

"No, you're fine.." She insisted.

_...damn fine_, she added privately, casually watching slopes of his bare torso pass her as he raised her closer to eye level. Suddenly flushed and nearly breathless, she looked up at his face.

"I feel like a creeper, sitting in on your morning routine." She remarked dryly as he lowered her to the bed.

Dean grinned impishly as Claire settled herself in the bed. "Well I'll try to give you a good show then."

"Oh and, um... We can have breakfast at my place if you want." She offered on a whim. "Obviously, I can't open the fridge myself, but I've got some juice and muffins at least."

Eyes flicking to the balled up sheets near the end of the bed, he reached for them and tugged the flannel sheet loose. Still smiling slightly, he carefully laid the blanket over Claire's legs. But as he watched the sheet settle, he suddenly realized what he was doing.

"Unh...In case you get cold. But uh...Yeah. muffins you say? Sounds good to me." He smiled again at the copper haired girl. This time it felt forced though.

Her eyebrows drew up in a bewildered frown as the hand came back after setting her down on the bed. What was he... Was he tucking her in? What the heck! Claire sucked in a breathful of air, but all questions died on her tongue when she saw the soft look on his billboard sized face. It made her heart launch into cosmic speed. Then he stood up and his presence became less overwhelming.

_That was sweet of him I guess. And.. Really weird._

The hunter quietly stood and walked over to the open spot between the bed and opening for the kitchen, dropping down into a push up position without another word. He pushed himself harder than usual, feeling the bruised muscles ache but loosen. The bruises themselves hurt like a bitch but he had to deal.

Claire gnawed on her lower lip, butterflies erupting in her stomach. _ Okay now he's just being mean, _she mentally exclaimed as he started into an upper body workout right there in front of her. Feeling like an intruder, she at first she tried to avert her eyes but... Hey, why not take advantage of the one benefit of her kooky predicament?

Grunting as he stood up, Dean looked at Claire. ..who was almost completely lost in the bed. He could tell that she was still awake even though he couldn't exactly see her eyes.

"I'll be right out but you can sleep if you want. I guess we'll...figure something out for you when im done." He barely waited for a reply before quietly shutting the bathroom door behind him. 'Get over yourself you idiot. She isn't your girl. This isn't like life when you had...' the thought trailed off as the water poured over him.

"..Right." Claire answered quietly. The door closed and his big steps became muffled by walls and running water.

Her small hands clenched at the sheets he had drawn over her, turning her eyes down towards the magnified stitching. It suddenly occurred to her that she was sitting in the massive crater where he had been lying down a short time ago. A small bead of fear began to wonder if maybe Dean was just leading her on. What if his intentions weren't far off from Abels'?

_No. He's being sincere. I.. I think he really wants to help me. He's given me no reason to distrust him yet, anyway. I guess I'll just have to stay on guard regardless till I get out of this mess._

Size was coming to redefine almost everything for her. She hated it.

"Ugh.." She groaned, throwing off the covers and starting pace in front the length of the pillow. One one of her passes, something metallic caught the light and Claire paused. Leaning down a bit, she saw there was something under the pillow. Impulsively, she reached to pull it into the open. It was cold and metallic and HEAVY. But the edge of the pillow she could lift up enough that she could get a picture of what it was.

It was a handgun.

Dean ran some gel through his damp hair and checked himself in the mirror one final time, washing his hands while wondering if he should've gone without shaving. If anyone saw him and wanted to report it to the cops, some growth might have made him look older from a distance.

"Too late." he muttered. The hunter felt a little better after a few minutes alone and a shower. At least more focused. Now he could better separate the need to protect Claire and find the bad guy, from...feelings from the other life he lived for awhile. _Crap. When did I turn into such a girl? The fact that I even kinda understand what the hell is wrong with me is almost worse...Im practically turning into Sam._ he thought with a laugh.

The tiny woman flinched as she heard Dean open the bathroom door and step into the bedroom.

"You sleep with a loaded gun under your pillow? I'm not THAT scary, I am?" She added the joke to hopefully lighten his mood... In case he got angry for sneaking a peek at his stuff. But her smile couldn't mask the increasing anxiety in her posture.

Caught off guard, Dean blinked his green eyes, staring at the four inch woman standing in front of his now partially exposed gun. Something in him tensed at the sight of someone so close to a gun when he didn't have one in hand. Particularly someone so vulnerable to damage. But it started to loosen back up as he finally noticed Claire's body language. Putting a smile on his face, Dean casually walked over to the bed and knelt by his duffel bag, slowly pulling out a nondescript grey long sleeve shirt.

"You? Terrifying. But..." he paused to slip the shirt over his head. "...That's to protect us. Not to...scare you."

He paused again and looked at Claire. Dean didn't know how to really describe his job without sounding crazy or maybe even turn Claire into a jumpy mess.

"Being a hunter isn't...easy. It's damn scary at times. But once you learn about what can get you when you're not looking, you start taking what precautions you have to. But hey. At least you can trust us to always be prepared to help you out." He gave her a half-smile again and hoped the answer had eased her fear of the gun. He could honestly tell himself he didn't want her scared of him. It'd make the job harder if he constantly had to calm her down anyway. 'Though I don't get how she can be so...scrappy still. I'm a...I'm a giant to her. There's a scenario I never considered.'

Claire listened intently, easily able to observe the magnified look in his eyes... Like a war veteran. But he couldn't have been much older than her. A strange twinge of sympathy ebbed and flowed, giving her the desire to give him a hug or something. The movement of his big pink lips forming words was getting less unnerving and more hypnotizing.

"Oh, y-yeah. It sounds brutal..." She trailed off. How many monsters had he killed? How many were out there? She heaved a massive sigh and tried to appear relaxed.

"Anyway," Dean went on. "Did you want to...get cleaned up or something? I need to make a call, so we still got some time."

"A shower sounds heavenly." She said. Claire held her breath as Dean laid out a hand for her.

"You're getting better at this." She remarked, her little hazel eyes flitting up to his briefly.

It was true; he had quickly improved from last night, when he could barely fathom picking her up. It made her feel like she had some catching up to do, since the whole process of being carried in his gigantic hands still made her stomach plummet each and every time.

As he stood up, Dean caught Claire's gaze. The small smile on her face caught him off guard and he paused for a split second. She actually looked...honest and teasing. Still somewhat...uncomfortable maybe. But yet again the hunter found himself floored by her ability to keep it together. Even joke.

He gave her a lopsided grin and carefully cupped her close to his chest as he walked to the bathroom.

"Really? Maybe ill have to put it on my resume. Dunno how I'd word it though. What the hell would be the PC term for unh..." he lowered his hand to the bathroom counter and eyes narrowed a little as he considered some phrases, "Someone in your...predicament. 'Small person' is taken already I think..." Dean looked away and cleared his throat, suddenly wondering if he'd taken the joke a little far. He sometimes forgot that his humor-filter wasn't the best and he tended to either insult or confuse people.

She averted her gaze while he continued his joke. Borrower, maybe. Next to nothing. She didn't really want to think about classifying herself just yet. She saw a glimpse of her reflection next to his. It was ridiculous to say the least. He was so _big_.

"Well unh...I guess the showers out of the question. So...the sink?" He said and lifted a hopeful eyebrow. He reached for his towel and wiped the sink out before he stopped it. Focusing and wracking his brain for what a girl liked shower-wise, he did his best to set the sink up for Claire.

"The sink? But I'm..." Claire looked up sharply at the underside of his chin, intending to correct him. She trailed off as she caught sight of the sink. It was, like everything else, enormous beyond compare. Easily the size of a kiddie pool. Her gaze drifted on to the shower behind. She had imagined she might just stand under the water stream on the floor... But at this size, maybe even the water droplet size would be too much. She internally cringed at the idea of being pelted by water like bullets. Sink it was. Maybe Dean had a better perspective on this than she gave him credit for.

"Unh...well our stuff is all...guy stuff. So, soap, conditioner, and shampoo in one. And you'll likely smell like Axe for days. But, I'll check on you in half an hour."

Dean smiled at the tiny woman, trying not to fall into full dumbass mode when he really noticed just how small she looked next to a razor he forgot to pick up. Claire smiled at his obvious kindness of setting this up for her, even craning her neck back to make sure he saw it. Even still... Feeling a little awkward, he ducked out. Her eyes followed his towering form until he disappeared from sight.

"I am a frickin mess." Claire groaned, turning to assess her own reflection. Wrinkled clothes, smudged eye makeup, a healing cut on her lip, some bruises forming on her upper arms. That tingling feeling that something was very very wrong never left her a single step as she washed up. It was a feeling she was gonna have to get used to.

Dean sat down heavily on the bed. Before his brain started to take off, he pulled out his phone.

_ 9am. Hopefully Bobby's not gonna be too pissed for calling early._

Dean put the cell up to his ear and the dial tone rang obnoxiously in his ear. His hand came up and rubbed the bridge of his nose, hoping he could get a good cup of coffee made to go along with the muffins Claire had promised. Beer would be bad. Maybe after a muffin or two...or four. 'Wonder how Claire is about an early morning pick-me-up...Though I guess she's probably not too against it, considering.' he thought with a chuckle.

The hunter was idly wondering how he could work the joke into a conversation with the girl, when a growling and gravely voice grunted into his ear.

"Damnit boy, don't you known what time it is? I have been up all night, scouring what I could possibly find for you idjits and you still have the balls to call me before I've had time for a good coffee?"

Dean winced. "How about you have a beer for both of us then, Bobby. Something happened last night that's blown this thing WIDE open."

A noncommittal snort was followed by the sound of a refrigerator door opening and quickly slamming shut. "Crap. Outta beer. Well why don't you just put me out of my misery while I make a pot of coffee?"

Dean had to grin at the despondency in ut tthe other hunters twangy voice. "Bobby...I can barely even get the words out but. We have another victim. That shrinking angle none of us wanted to believe? Turns out we're idiots."

Dean laid the night out for Bobby, starting with what he had gone through, and after pulling out his notes, retold Claire's. "This poor girl is only like...FOUR INCHES tall now! I can barely believe what I'm seeing when I look at her."

"Damn." the older man said, his voice easily giving away his uncertainty and probably outright disbelief. "Did you get a picture of her that you can send me?"

Dean scowled. "NO! I have not been the douchebag who tries to take a picture of the woman who got shrunk last night! She's been through a lot alre-..."

"Okay okay! That's not...what I meant! Stop getting your panties inna twist, Sally. It's just...I never heard of any kind of supernatural creature or monster being able to SHRINK people. Hell, I thought this was a wild goose chase that'd give you two a vacation of some kind."

"Really? Well that's awfully sweet of you Bobby. But now me and Sam have a freaking man-witch looking for our tails! The only good thing is that I got to Claire before he did! More or less... Now we got a lead though. We need you to look for any other references of Abels, shrinking. ...male witches...Whatever will get us some kind of advantage on this guy. But we also need to find a contact...A healer...whatever that will get Claire back to normal, and tell us what Abels meant by Claire's background."

"Yahyah...I think I got some leads on the witch community. It's gonna take some major digging. At least demons keep using their names...I doubt this guy will make it so easy. But the anti-shrinking thing... That could take a few tries. I'll make a call to a friend in Ireland right away. Just, you be nice to that girl alright?" Bobby's voice took on a harder edge, sounding like a stern uncle or father. "Maybe you should let Sam take care of her. He's got more patience for victims. .."

Dean flushed and cut Bobby off, "HEY! I can be a nice guy! And she's pretty tough! And I... She... We- Unh! Just call us when you have something! I gotta get our new roommate outta the bathroom and figure out how to drive her around without scarring her for life." Dean snapped the phone closed and flopped down onto his bed.

_God...If you're there...PLEASE make all the idiots get out of my way before I shoot someone!_

It was partially overcast today. A little chilly for mid-April, too.

Claire stood on the dashboard of the Impala, facing away from its driver. Dean's voice rumbled behind her like soft thunder. But for some reason, she didn't fully process his question just yet. She stared at her apartment building with thoughts running rampant through her head.

Dean tried not to stare at Claire, who had turned back around and was studying the view outside the windshield again. But who wouldn't when an action figure-sized woman was standing on your cars dashboard? As Dean's eyes took in Claire, he started to notice how the raising sunlight outlined her figure, how the slight movement from hand on her hip were her fingers tapping, how her ass-

"Hey, Claire?"

The shadow of a giant hand made her jump out of the way and whirl to face him.

"Sorry! Yeah let's get in there..." She murmured. Claire started to him, then stopped short and threw her hands out as if hitting an invisible wall.

"Wait! I didn't even tell you how to get the spare key! How were you planning on getting in?" There was no embarrassment in the look Dean gave her, which puzzled her. "..Never mind. Look, you're going to need to talk to the receptionist. Ask for Jamie. The keyword is Maroon 5."

"Uh...what?" Dean coughed out. "Maroon 5? C'mon, don't tell me you're a hipster." A somewhat disapproving frown popped onto the hunter's face.

"You shut your mouth!" Claire blurted out, jumping to defend both herself and her taste in music. "Maroon 5 is so not a hipster band! They're classic indie pop... I like them, so get over it." She gave crossed her arms across her chest, as if to say: _end of the discussion. _

Belatedly, she replayed this and her face promptly heated up from realization. It wasn't embarrassment, but clarity. Frightening clarity. Though she hadn't thought about it long enough to put into words, a primary reason she got so nervous around Dean was the knowledge of how easily things could go from bad to worse if she ticked him off.

Suddenly, that wave of vertigo slammed into her and Dean seemed to grow before her eyes. How was she even having a normal conversation with something so colossal? She could almost feel the vibrations of his voice carried through the air...

Dean frowned, his green eyes watching Claire intently. Why had she suddenly gotten so stiff and quiet? Was she nervous about something?

"Classic Indie? You obviously need to get a new dictionary and look up 'classic' again." He muttered his reply.

_I should just tell her that I'm gonna break-in and be done with it. Why am I...embarrassed or something?_ he thought moodily.

"I dunno about going in and talking with the landlord, Claire. Me and Sam have to keep low profiles, and your apartment isn't exactly motel 6. I need to keep this guy from remembering- Oh... Crap. I guess there's always the disguise route." He leveled an even more moody and grumpy scowl at Claire.

Claire shifted her weight foot to foot, arms crossed less strictly as she gave Dean a thoughtful look up and down.

"You're right... We gotta tone down that whole 'homicidal Abercrombie model' vibe."

"What?" He said and almost forgot to keep his voice low. "That's just insulting. I've NEVER smelled that bad. And believe me. I've had my low moments."

Claire snorted at his reply, even though his voice boomed in her ears. Funny how 'homicidal' didn't bother him as much as the designer brand company.

Noticing that she still seems nervous, he frowned again, not realizing that it looked something like a scowl. 'Maybe she doesn't think I can pull it off.'

"And look. I've already got a disguise," he said and leaned back to find the right duffel bag, "There's a pair of skinny jeans, a clean hoodie with a Beatles logo, and this girly ass, chunky...knitted whatever beanie...Wait...Crap!" Dean growled as he pulled the bag into his lap to look in it better. "The beanie's gone!"

He looked back at Claire and his annoyed scowl softened into a...less harsh version. "Ok. So...The beanie is supposed to cover my face enough to basically hide me. Without it... It looks like we're back to Plan A... Which is me breaking into your apartment."

She turned back to face him, momentarily stiffening from the hard look on his face. _Shit, this guy can be scary when he wants to._ Dean didn't seem to notice, and he carried on about the disguise. She raised an eyebrow, looking increasingly apprehensive as he named the fact that they carried skinny jeans around made her smirk privately. But then-

"What?!" She exclaimed, slack-jawed. "You were just going to break into my apartment? Just like that?"

Turned out those creeping suspicions that these guys had tousled with the law were completely true. Criminal records. Given the desperate situation, she was able to push that out of mind for the time being. She just had to get back to normal. Then this nightmare would be over. She took a deep breath and let it out.

"Look, no offense, but your idea of a disguise is shady as hell. We don't get a lot of visitors around except on holidays."

Despite the look he gave her, Claire went on, walking over to the dashboard connecting to the steering wheel and climbing down to sit on the circular center of it right in front of Dean.

"First thing, fix your collar." She pointed to the uneven side of it, folded in on itself in haste. Not a big deal in general, but if he wanted to look legit... The devil's in the details. She pursed her lips after he begrudgingly followed her instructions, looking more annoyed all the while. "Now you just need a finishing touch."

She looked outside windshield at the occasional passing cars and pedestrians walking around or from the apartment complex. Claire spotted a little vendor selling newspapers and reading glasses on the street corner. She smiled at the thought of achieving a small, harmless sort of revenge for the hipster accusation.

_Perfect_.


	5. Chapter 5

Getting the key had been easier than he had thought. Getting ready to just go in and get the friggin key... That had proved more obnixious than letting Sam pick the radio station. The hunter had gone from trying to keep Claire talking to him, to grinding his teeth in annoyance at her instructions. Hipster galsses. She had him buy hipster glasses! For his face!

But when he had seen the smile Claire had been trying to hide... All Dean could do was roll his eyes and lightly drop her into his chest pocket. He couldn't stay mad at her. She was totally rearranging how he operated, but he just couldn't actually stay mad at her. He hoped it was just him being nice cause of her size. Otherwise he was being a total pushover over a cute piece of ass.

IAnd a good sense of humor. And brave as hell. And...currently curled up in my chest pocket. Weirdest feeling. EVER. I mean I canb feel/b her entire frickin' body against my chest./I

Dean had been going up the unwatched and unrecorded stairway when he thought that, and a jogger has passed him and gave him a weirded-out look. Thankfully the dork in spandex kept going down without any comment.

"Nice building." Dean muttered as he entered the second story hallway.

He cleared his throat and nonchalantly looked both ways down the hall. It was well lit at the ends, with big modern windows letting in grey morning light. A small sitting area was illuminated where the elevator let out.

He quietly unlocked the door of Claire's apartment in the deserted second story hallway. Dean slowly stuck his head in and looked around. When he didn't see anything obvious, he slipped in and closed the door behind him.

"Hunh. Nice place too." he muttered in a low voice. Unzipping his half zipped hoodie, he pulled it back from his chest and looked down to his pocket to see if Claire could poke her head out without him.

Fresh air instantly penetrated the stuffiness of the pocket. Claire put on hand on Dean's chest to steady her as she stood up. Her head pushed up the flap, as she was half an inch taller than it. Then her knees buckled and she fell back into the depths of the pocket. After some visible movement, she reappeared again, this time managing to get her arms over the edge.

"Like standing on a hammock.." She said, sparing Dean a quick look. "Gimme a hand?" She asked hopefully.

The words had scarcely left her mouth before the enormous hand ascended and filled up her vision. her body tensed as she was plucked up between a finger and thumb- just a finger and thumb, mind you!- and then set down in his other hand. She had half a mind to complain about how fast he was starting to pick her up from time to time... But then again he was helping her for no payment whatsoever. Not that she knew of anyway.

She rolled her shoulders and stretched out her arms in front of her. Pocket-travel was a bit restrictive. She smirked as Dean took off the fake glasses at the earliest possible moment and shoved them into his hoodie pocket. Then she looked out at her apartment. It was tidy but showed signs of being lived in. She remembered having cleaned it up a bit in hopes that she might eventually show it off to her date last night... Hah. Cause that had gone SO well. She didn't like seeing all her belongings.. her entire home so big like this. Once again, she felt betrayed by her own world.

"Sorry to treat you like a camel, but could you take me to the kitchen counter? I want to check my messages."

Dean smirked down at the little figure in his palm. It had been ridiculously cute watching her try to stand up in his pocket. But he quickly looked away when Claire looked back up at him. He wasn't about to move or make too much noise before he was positive about what was there. Normally, he didn't have a vic with him, asking to check messages and whatever. He'd get in, check for traps, get what he needed, and be out. But right now he had a four inch victim standing in his hand. At least she was cute and had muffins.

Dean walked into the kitchen. It was a relatively open living and kitchen area, so he didn't feel too bad about letting her climb off onto the counter while his attention was elsewhere.

"I need to look around, Claire. I'm gonna stick in here first but I gotta poke around to look for things mean witches leave behind." He looked down at Claire, a stab of worry going through his gut. "You can stay here and check your messages. I don't like leaving you alone, but I'm gonna be bending down and stuff. Alright?" Dean asked gently, knowing it had to be hard to let some stranger go through your place.

There was something vaguely condescending in the way Dean explained the whole "mean witches" thing... She was sure it was unintentional, but that was beside the point. It was an unwelcome indicator of just how puny and helpless he viewed her. Not exactly a self-esteem boost. Her slender brows knit together.

"What do you mean?" Claire asked, looking past his hulking form a bit nervously now. "How do you know he left something?" She didn't even want to know what a creep like Abels would have left as a parting gift.

Dean frowned. This was definitely a new experience- And not one he was exactly enjoying. Taking in a deep breath, he planted his hands on the counter's edge and tried to give Claire an even but still maybe comforting look. Maybe comforting. He was trying anyway.

"That's how witches operate. He probably... Well he was probably in your apartment some time before last night. Witches use these bags to put spells in..." Dean was unable to take the look in Claire's face as he kept talking. He moved to open cabinets and drawers, glancing in them as he tried to explain. "He likely watched you with 'em. Stuff like that. But finding them will give us a clue about who he is and how he...casts his spells. Ah. Like this one."

Grimly, he stood and put the old canvas bag he had found behind the sink plummeting down by Claire. "I'm gonna check the rest of the place. Please. Yell for me if you need me."

"But.. no cameras..?" She stammered, ogling the bag with horror. What a stupid thing to ask. He didn't need hidden cameras to spy on her! Here she was, a whopping four inches tall! She had no reason to doubt whatever hoodoo-magic thing the witch was using brought results. Claire looked up and gave Dean the consent that freed him to go about his search. While it was an invasion of privacy to have a man search her apartment top to bottom, it was nothing compared to the knowledge that Abels not only had researched her... Hunted her down... Shrunk her! He had most likely been watching her in her own home, supposed to be her sanctuary. The thought sickened her.

There was an odd smell coming from the pouch, like singed herbs or something. The thought occurred to her that it might have some sort of adverse effect on her brain if she inhaled too much. Additionally, the little burlap pouch reminded her far too much of last night- she remembered Abels pulling out a black pouch, forcing her inside and shutting out the light...

Claire scuttled to towards the end of the counter where she kept some food. Her stomach growled, and she was grateful for the distraction. Seeing as she couldn't actually open the plastic muffin container, she was forced to make do with a piece of stale croissant she had wrapped up in a napkin the day before. As she wiped her hands on her pants, she looked around. A banana was longer than she was. The coffee pot loomed huge and black and looked more like an oversized statement piece in a museum. The sack was... smoking?

Doing a double take, Claire swiveled around to face the witch-bag. Sure enough, there was a thin ribbon of pale blue smoke coming from the top.

"Hey, Dean? Is it supposed to be smoking like that?"

Dean hummed a growl of disapproval and let the linen closet close shut. It banged loudly as it hit the crooked mouldings and bounced back open a small amount. Cursing, Dean glared at it for a moment before stomping over to the bathroom door and throwing it open. He had tried to sound confident in front of Claire, but as he considered the viable options, it started to feel like they had never really left square one. They had a little more information from Claire, but they now had a vic who needed constant supervision and wanted every single detail explained. It could trip him or Sam up, and something like that was dangerous. Downright fatal on six days out of the week.

Dean was about to leave the bathroom after trying not to associate everything he saw in there with the small, pretty girl in the kitchen, when he noticed an edgeboard behind the door looked a little...off. He pulled out his pocket knife and wedged the board off, another hex bag hiding right behind it in a small cavity between the walls studs.

"Good God, this one's a persistent creep." the hunter muttered darkly. He picked up the bag and studied it as he stood. It was larger than others and felt like it held folded pieces of paper. There was some kind of writing on the outside. ...it looked like something an evil Lord of the Rings character would've written.

"Hunh. Claire. Think I found what we needed-" his sentence cut short as something small and sharp flew right past his neck. "OW! Shit! It cut me!" He growled and his hand slapped over the wound. But as he turn and spun, there wasn't anything there.

"What the..." He walked into the hallway again and finally heard Claire... Mostly because she was practically screaming.

"Claire!" He moved to run and grab her, but suddenly what he had though had been air twitched, shifted, and then Imoved/I. The invisible oxygen transformed, turning into almost a hundred translucent, flying human... womenish things.

"Oh crap- OW! That hurts you tiny freaks!" He bellowed.

The figures flew at him and tried to cut at him with weapons made of what seemed to be pure, weaponized air. Dean pulled his jacket off and threw it over his front, hoping to block himself a little as he ran through the things. He needed to reach Claire and just get out before she got hurt- or taken. The fact a trap had been sprung and he only noticed it now, made him want to kill something. Before he could move, the air fairies...er, things, flew at each other, condensing into each other until they combusted into simultaneous flames.

"Oh man, this isn't good." He breathed.

"Dean!" Claire uselessly charged forward to help him. She was stopped by three Wisps; A cluster of five had parted from the rest. They pushed her, shoved her, and pulled her hair, all in an attempt to get her back on the counter.

"Get off me, you little parasites!" Claire shrieked, trying to shake them off. She clawed one in the face and it backed off, but another one took its place, and the one She had hit had a full recovery in moments. Dean's jacket caught fire, forcing him to discard it. She tried to twist around to wrench herself free. It didn't work, but she saw one of the creepy things holding the burlap bag open. They were going to bring her back to Ihim. /I

"No- NO!" Claire screamed, struggling anew. Her heart beat fear-frozen blood through her body. The sharp buzzing in her ears became painfully stringent. If her ears were bleeding, she couldn't feel it. She whimpered, falling to her knees. She could hear Dean struggling on his own, the odor of smoke and charred fabric strong in the air.

In the midst of her panic, anger took solid root. INo. I'm not going to be helpless anymore. I'm not going without a fight./I

She clenched her jaw and grabbed for the nearest utensil she could reach- a used coffee spoon. she swung it with all her might. It was heavy, and the force landed her flat on her back. To her shock, three of the conjured wisps disintegrated with a high-pitched wail. Her untrained eyes didn't notice the silver paint chipping off the tip of the spoon, reveal the original iron metal underneath.

The flames quickly formed into an androgynous and unnaturally lean, and tall human-like form. There wasnt a real face on the thing. The flames flickered and signed constantly, sometimes making outlines of eyes and a creepy mouth. But malice and arrogance radiated off the thing, its desire to takeout whatever was in its way came off it like a bad smell. Dean's mouth tensed into a flat line and he tossed the hex bag he had been holding, aiming for the monsters chest. A hole swirled open a split second before the bag hit its chest and the canvas bag flew into the living room. Dean blinked in surprise but didn't let it phase him. It was becoming obvious that the thing burned only what it wanted to; the hallway walls and floor showed no signs of burns or any other scarring. Left with no other choice, Dean threw the jacket back over his face and barreled through the fire monster. He barely felt any resistance as he passed through it, but the flames and heat clawed at his arms and back. The hunter allowed himself to halfway cry out in pain, but he focused on throwing the jacket away from him as he tumbled into a roll and tried to kill the flames.

Once the flames had burnted out, leaving his sleeves singed, and shoulders and back with small burns, he made himself ignore the pain and go into a crouch. Claire's cries rang in his ears and he scolded at the oncoming fire monster, his adrenaline and anger raging becsuse he didnt want to draw the thing towards her. He looked around for some kind of weapon, his mind sharp from years worth of instincts and a general desire to beat on something. The thing was within a foot of him when he finally saw it. A fire extinguisher, in between a bookcase and cabniets holding the tv. He dove for it, but not before he felt flames tear into his right shoulder. His dive was pushed to the side, but he scrambled to get his feet under him and threw his hands out. The cold metal of the extinguisher slammed into his palms.

He grunted and spun, firing a stream of ice cold spray at the fire monster. It screeched and stumbled backward, flames breaking off and dying. Dean made his way to the kitchen, spraying it as he went. It disappeared into the hallway, and the hunter threw the fire extinguisher into the livingroom. His brain had already switched to the next step; grabbing Claire. She was sitting on the counter, facing off two of the air-fairies with a spoon in her hands. The spelled creatures swooped in but steered clear of her weapon. ISilver weapon. Good job./I He thought with ironic respect.

"Time to go!" Dean said. He grabbed Claire, his hand carefully wrapping around her- the spoon came with her. Without thinking about it, he grabbed the container of muffins and ran for the door, holding Claire to his chest.

She was completely engulfed by the sudden grip, but for once it never even crossed her mind to complain about it. the outcome was out of her hands again, but in this case she was more than okay with letting the guy who hunted stuff as a lifelong hobby to deal with the magical entities. Her world spun and jerked with steps that were not her own.

Dean's head whipped around when a dry voice whispered. The fire-apparition walked back into the living room, and the voice came out of it like it was some kind of out-of-tune radio.

"Mercy. Hunter may have mercy if you leave...Leave the girl. Leave the girl. Leave the girl or die." The fiery visage rasped.

Dean clutched Claire closer to his chest and leveled a murderous stare at the thing.

"Just try it you pathetic creep."

Dean pivoted and she was face with an image that would be seared into her memory for the rest of her life: a decaying humanoid creature that seemed to radiate flames and burning embers. Those coal colored sockets saw her, she just knew it. "what-" she wheezed, the last bit of speech cut off as the air was squeezed from her lungs. Dean was crushing her into him. His voice boomed over her head and literally rumbled through her back. So LOUD! But better with him... So much better with him than that monster.

Throwing open the door, Dean kicked the larger hex bag he had found earlier out the door and let it slam behind him. A shrill shriek of a scream blew through the door and then everything went still. He desperately wanted to check on Claire, but there wasnt time. Not yet. Dean could only spare her a quick glance at the tiny woman to make sure she was still alive before carefully putting her in his chest pocket again. Keeping a hand over the pocket, he grabbed the hex bag and bolted for the stairs.

She yelped quietly in surprise as she slid down the fabric walls of the pocket. She feared falling out the open flap, but Dean holding a hand over her fixed her firmly in place. To say the ride down the stairs was rough would be an understatement. Although it seemed like he was getting away safely, she couldn't know for sure. That bone-chilling whisper clattered around her mind relentlessly: Ileave the girl/I.

By the time they were outside, Claire was practically passed out from hyperventilating. She scrabbled pathetically at the invisible hand pressing down on her. They had to be outside by now right?

"Let me... Let me out! Let... Me out." She choked out.

Once Dean pushed through the side door, nonchalantly looking both ways as he made his way down the sidewalk, he felt some of the tension in his muscles and gut loosen up. Biting the inside of his lip, he casually looked behind him when he had to stop at a crosswalk.

ICan't see anyone behind me... Though a freaking air fairy is gonna be damn hard to see./I he mentally growled. A sudden push on his palm made his realize his hand was still pressed against his chest. His pocket. INo, pressed against Claire. Angry... upset Claire from the squeaks./I

Dean let his hand drop from his chest, suddenly feeling a little awkward and crazy protective.

"Not yet, I'm sorry. We're..." Dean let his words trail off when an old lady shuffled up next to him. He smiled at her, but she didn't even look at him as she took off shuffling across the street. Finally seeing that the light had changed, he jogged past the old lady and down the alley.

"There you are baby." he cooed at the impala and hastily slid into the drivers seat. He winced when his wounded back and shoulder hit the cold leather seat and cursed under his breath.

"Okay... Back in the car. Claire? You still with me?"

The hunter tried to put away the sudden rush of emotions... Like the freaking wish to hold Claire close till the scared voice she had used minutes ago left his brain. He lowered his hand down into his pocket and gently grabbed Claire. He flattened his other palm and set her down onto it, trying to ignore the burns on the back of his knuckles.

Claire was curled up in the corner of the pocket- an unmoving little lump that had taken to whispering frantic Hail Mary's into her knees. She winced every time Dean took a particularly large step- it would send her tiny body up about an inch of airtime (though it felt more like a couple feet in her eyes) before landing back at the bottom. His hurried pace made the pocket travel comparable some horrible carnival ride without any safety belts. She was still praying that God would deliver her from evil and get them both out of this alive when a giant hand crowded the pocket and effortlessly drew her out into the open.

His hand was shaking. No wait... Most of that was her. Claire scrambled backwards on his palm like a fawn finding its legs for the first time. She was silent for a moment, little chest heaving and staring up at Dean's vast face. He looked so worried about her. So intense. Frighteningly so in fact. That was to be expected, though, considering he had just wrestled a big fire monster in her living room. Endless questions streamed in her mind from that horrifying encounter and she couldn't decide which was the most important to ask. Instead, to both of their surprises, the tension completely zapped from her body. With a breathy moan, she slumped against his ring finger and turned part of her face into the pad of it.

"Is this really my life?" She mumbled.

Dean didn't know what to do. His tongue felt like it had rolled up back into his throat and his face was going red cause he couldn't breathe. And instead of thinking of something clever to say or a witty reply to defuse the situation- Or God help him, maybe even think of something comforting to tell Claire... All the hunter did was stare at the action figure sized girl huddled against his ring finger, her face pale, and hair a fuzzed mess.

He would have sworn that his palm still tingled from the feeling of her violent trembling. As he peered down at her, Dean also could have sworn that there was a wet trail from a single tear on her cheek.

IWe don't have time for this. I need to get Sam, call Bobby, study the hex bag, eat my way through the muffins on the seat over there... And I can't...give Claire a hug. Or even pat her friggin hand! I don't do vics, and yet somehow I'm practically connected to this one by an emotional umbilical cord! And I don't have the strength to cut it./I Dean swallowed hard, and cleared his throat to try and get his voice working. The hunter didnt know that his worried look had softened as he had thought his way through his feelings. He also didn't notice his empty hand till a finger had gently touched Claire's tiny shoulder. Her hair was incredibly soft under his fingertip.

"It's not gonna last forever. I swear. We'll figure this out and you'll get your life back. And I'll keep- We're gonna keep you safe till then."

Whatever doubts Claire had were effectively put to rest with that simple gesture. Although it was undoubtedly smarter to remain distant from any potential threat, Claire felt completely safe in these huge hands. He made her feel absolutely minuscule... But important, somehow, too. Claire turned her face out a bit, peeking up at him with a weary smile. A dot of cool pressure- a tiny hand- slid up along the grooves of the thick finger on her shoulder.

"Thanks... I still don't-" she cut off abruptly when Dean flinched. The small movement had made her tiny body jump a milimeter into the air, landing a bit to the right of where she had been before.

"What was... Oh my gosh!"

Claire answered her own question when her eyes fell upon the charred skin around some of his knuckles and the back of his hand. Her shocked stupor was replaced by a new energy. She scrambled to her feet upon unsteady flesh and pulled at the side of his other hand. Luckily for her limited body strength, Dean humored her and angled it so she could see. It made her stomach flutter with a faint queasiness at the scent of burnt skin and blood. It hit home on a new level how real all of this was. Magic and monsters were real, and they could kill.

"It... That.. IAwful/I thing.. It burned you!" Claire looked up at him urgently. "Dean, you've got to put some ice on this." It felt like such an unhelpful, mundane suggestion compared to the stuff he and Sam spouted. They probably knew some hoodoo or magic herb that healed better than ice.

A small and rather ridiculously fond smile slowly spread across Dean's face. He watched Claire scamper across his palm and study his burned knuckles. He had been milliseconds away from apologizing for the way he had jumped; her touch on the wound had been more surprising than painful, and he'd jumped like a big baby. But instead of being scared or pissed... she'd instantly started to worry about him. A warm glow had suddenly lit in his stomach and was working its way up.

IShes just so damned cute. This brave little chick all worried about my lame ass./I He grinned down at her worried look.

"It's alright. More of a scratch than anything really. Once we get back to the room, Sammy will be able to patch me up."

Mentioning his brother quickly reminded the hunter that they needed to regroup and plan their next move. But the feeling of Claire's teeny hand on his kept the gooey feeling in his chest, nice and warm. He mentally sighed and made himself focus.

"You weren't hurt were you? Cause if you're ready, we need to get going." He gently curled his fingers so that he could lightly rub Claire's forearm with an unburnt side of his pointer finger.

Claire jerked her eyes down at the sudden warmth on her arm. The finger tip alone was over half as wide as her entire body. It rested lightly upon her forearm, and she marveled at how Dean was able to restrain his strength to handle someone her size. She'd seen what he could do... The way he had fought that monster in there. But he was careful with her. His touch inspired warmth all over, and she slowly looked all the way back up at the gigantic hunter.

"No, I'm... I'm good." She said, voice wavering as her heart hiccuped. Besides being the size of a cracker? Yeah, totally swell here.

"Put me down, you're gonna need both hands to drive." She placed both hands on his fingertip and gently pushed it away, giving him permission to stop worrying about her and do his job.


End file.
